Reunion at the Hilo Village
by SouthernChickie
Summary: The promised sequel to Univeristy Love! Richie's new life is interupted when an old flame needs his help. One event changes the lives of your favorite characters from UL. Now Complete.
1. A Death in the Family

Disclaimers: Standard disclaimers apply.  
  
AN: This is the sequel to University Love. It is necessary you read that before this.  
  
REUNION AT THE HILO VILLAGE  
  
Richie took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. He heard voices then footsteps and then felt the familiar buzz of another immortal. He shifted his bag to the other shoulder as the door opened. Duncan stood, stunned on the other side. It had been seven years since they had last seen each other back in 2000.  
  
"Richie?" he finally managed to get something out.  
  
"How is he?" Richie asked, avoiding the awkward greetings.  
  
"He's as well as he can be. But it's a good thing you're here now; we don't think he has much longer."  
  
"What did the doctors say?"  
  
"They can't find anything wrong. He's just old."  
  
Richie nodded. He always had hated doctors. They were never reliable enough. "Can I come in?" he asked after a pregnant pause in the conversation. "Or are you so mad at me that I can't?"  
  
Duncan stepped aside. "No, no... come in." Richie entered the house and put his bag by the door. "Are you staying?"  
  
"If Joe will let me. Where is he?"  
  
"Living room." He gestured to the left.  
  
Richie took the lead and confidently walked down the hall. Joe was tucked into a recliner and Adam was sitting on the couch across from him. Both looked up at Richie's entrance.  
  
"Hi," he ventured.  
  
A broad smile broke out across Joe's now old and weathered face. "Heh, heh, heh, well look at you," he chuckled. "It's about time you got here." Richie smiled shyly and advanced across the room to give Joe a long overdo hug.  
  
"I just heard. I got here as fast as my bike would go."  
  
"I have no plans of dying before I'm ready, young man. You don't have to worry about me. How are you doing?"  
  
"I'm doing okay." He knelt by Joe's chair and rested his chin on his hands, which were propped up on the armrest, a child waiting for his father to tell him a story.  
  
"You look like hell."  
  
"Well I just drove all the way from Cincinnati to Washington on a motorcycle what do you expect?"  
  
"You didn't have time to stop for a hair cut?" He jostled the blonde curls that now hung to the young immortal's ears.  
  
"I know; I'm going though an ugly stage right now. I'm growing it all out."  
  
"Why?"  
  
He shrugged. "A change."  
  
"I'm on my death bed and that's all the information you're going to give me?" Joe laughed. "I'm a retired spy, for God's sake, boy. You have to give me more than that!"  
  
"Looks to me like you're on your death Lazy Boy," Richie told him.  
  
"Richie..." Duncan started to scold the younger man for what he saw as an inappropriate joke.  
  
"Oh, MacLeod, stop protecting my ego and go to the store already," Joe cut him off with a wave of his hand. "You go with him, Adam. Richie's humor will be a welcome change from the stoicism that I've been getting. And we have a lot of catching up to do."  
  
It wasn't until the other immortals had left that Richie spoke again. "So how are you?"  
  
Joe sighed. "I'm doing alright. The damned doctors can't find anything wrong. No cancer, no cysts, no infections, just age. I'm not this old."  
  
"I know you're not. Is there anything I can do for you?"  
  
"I'm just glad you're here. That's enough for me."  
  
"How're Mac and Adam treating you?"  
  
"Like a fragile antique. At least MacLeod is. Adam seems to have a better grip on this, but MacLeod is a bit irritating."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Nothing you can do about it. So now that it's just you and me, you mind explaining the hair?"  
  
Richie smiled. "It's for my new identity. I'm starting over this year."  
  
"Didn't like law?"  
  
"No, I loved it, actually. Did a lot of pro bono, stuff like that. Mostly came out on top, too. But it's just time to move on. I don't want to be a rookie lawyer the rest of my life. So, I'm going back to school."  
  
"And this requires shaggy hair?"  
  
"I'm going for a more surfer look now. I thinking all I need is a tan and some board shorts and I'm all set. Don't you think I can pull it off?"  
  
Joe smiled. "I think you have some more explaining to do. Are you moving to California or Florida?"  
  
Richie grinned broadly. "Hawaii."  
  
"Hawaii?"  
  
"Yeah." Richie rocked back on his heels then took Adam's seat on the couch. "I was there a year ago buying this resort that someone in the law firm I worked for was attached to somehow... any way... I fell in love with the island while I was there. Joe, I'm telling you, it's beautiful there. I mean, you see the post cards and TV specials, but that's nothing. I didn't realize how much I missed the beach and the water... So, anyway, I'm going to start at Hawaii State in the fall."  
  
Joe smiled and shook his head. "Why would you put yourself through college again?"  
  
"Look at me, Joe. It's all I can do. But I'm not waiting tables anymore you can bank on that."  
  
"So what are you going to do? Another dojo?"  
  
"I'm going to give myself a job as a life guard at my resort."  
  
"So you can watch girls in bikinis all day?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Are you playing any sports for the, uh, what's the mascot?"  
  
"The Ne Ne. It's kind of like a Canadian goose, but not. But, no, I'm not playing for the school. I tried out for the soccer team, but didn't make it."  
  
"Tough break."  
  
"Eh, not really. A bunch of the guys who didn't make it got together and formed a league team. I joined that."  
  
"I see." They sat in silence for a minute. "Are you staying?" Joe asked.  
  
"I was hoping to, if you don't mind."  
  
"You're family. Of course you can stay! I would insist on it anyway."  
  
Richie smiled. "Somehow I knew you'd be the one to understand what I did and not be mad."  
  
Joe gave him a knowing look. "Are you worried about MacLeod?"  
  
"I know he's mad. I was mad when he did it to me, too. I just didn't see any other way. Do you think I did the right thing?"  
  
"Do you regret what you did?"  
  
"Ultimately, no."  
  
"Then you did the right thing."  
  
Richie nodded. "Are you hungry?" he asked suddenly. "I haven't eaten all day and I'm starving."  
  
"Me, too. Let's go get something."  
  
"Are you sure that's okay? I mean, I'm a good cook; I can make whatever you want."  
  
"I want to go out somewhere."  
  
"What about the doctors, Joe? What would they say?"  
  
"They'd say they can't find anything wrong with it."  
  
They left a note of where they'd be and Richie's cell phone number before they left for Joe's favorite Mexican restaurant. They got a table for four because Richie's gut told him that Duncan was going to be there to glare at him for the entire meal.  
  
Sure enough, the waitress had just left the chips and salsa on the table when the buzz hit Richie. Duncan stalked over to their table, grabbed Richie's arm, mumbled a quick "Excuse us," and drug Richie out to the parking lot before Adam had made it to the table.  
  
"What are you thinking?" Duncan demanded as soon as the door shut behind them.  
  
"I was thinking I was hungry. I asked Joe what he wanted; this is what he wanted."  
  
"Richie, he is a sick, dying man. He can't eat this food!"  
  
"Why not, because you say so?"  
  
"Richie, stop being so stubborn."  
  
"Mac, you said it yourself; the doctor's don't know what's wrong with him. So we don't know what he can and can't eat."  
  
"Richie, he's dying."  
  
"Yeah, he's not dead yet. Give him a chance to live while he can."  
  
Duncan shook his head and sighed. "Fine. We just have to make sure he takes it easy."  
  
Joe did a good job of keeping himself in check, ordering rather plain, bland food and refusing Richie's offer to share his jalapeno jack Fajitas. That night, Richie took the couch and was awakened by loud coughing. He tracked the noise back to Joe's bedroom.  
  
"You okay?" he asked softly.  
  
"Come here," Joe wheezed, pushing himself up in the bed. Richie moved his pillows to support his back. "We need to have a little talk."  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Richie... I'm dying."  
  
"I know."  
  
"And I had to make out a will. I left most of my things to you."  
  
"Why me? Why not Mac or Adam."  
  
"Because you're the youngest. You're not settled financially yet."  
  
"Joe..."  
  
"And you're like a son to me. I know the last thing you want to hear is that. But you're a great kid and you deserve some time off. Promise me that when you graduate again, you'll use my money to take some time to travel around, vacation, relax. You're too old to have to worry about midterms and papers. So that's what I want you to use it for."  
  
"I will."  
  
"And one more thing."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Try and get along with MacLeod. He hasn't been the same since you left." He coughed a few times.  
  
"What?"  
  
"He's not the same. Just try and make amends."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Promise me. A MacLeod's word is better than any contract."  
  
"Joe..."  
  
"Promise."  
  
"I promise." Joe started coughing again, this time harder. "Are you okay?" Joe nodded and tried to wave Richie's concerned hands away. "Joe?" He saw blood dribbling though the old man's fingers. "Mac! Adam!" he yelled jumping to his feet and trying to figure out what to do.  
  
"What's wrong?" Duncan asked pushing the younger man aside, Adam at his heels.  
  
"I dunno he just started coughing up blood."  
  
"Duncan, call an ambulance," Adam ordered moving him aside. "Richie, turn on the light then get me some water."  
  
Richie was going down the hall on his third errand when the EMTs showed up and charged after him.  
  
"Out of the way, kid," one warned before he got shoved into the wall so they could get by.  
  
Adam stayed in the room talking with the EMTs as they worked on Joe while Duncan and Richie stood in the hall trying to make sense of what was going on.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
The funeral had been simple and well attended. The Watchers in attendance openly stared at the three immortals who seemed to be the primary mourners at the service. They served as half of the pallbearers, and all delivered a eulogy.  
  
"You'd think they'd never seen an immortal before," Richie grumbled, as two started whispering and pointing as people paid their last respects.  
  
"They've never seen one so human before," Adam added glaring at them.  
  
"I fell like I'm an animal in the zoo." Richie shifted uncomfortably in his suit. "Did it have to be so hot today?"  
  
"Richie, stop complaining," Duncan told him.  
  
Richie thought about saying something snide back, but decided to be the bigger man and just kept quiet. The three stayed until the last mourner had left, then all went back to Joe's house. It took all three of them five days to clean the house up enough to have it ready to go on the market. As soon as they were done, Richie was on the phone making arrangements to leave for school. Duncan caught him packing that afternoon.  
  
"You weren't planning on sneaking away again, were you?" he asked.  
  
"No, I was going to tell you tonight that I have a plane to catch tomorrow afternoon."  
  
"You're leaving?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm starting school again. I need to go get settled and everything before classes start."  
  
"It's the end of July, you have plenty of time to get ready. Stick around a while."  
  
"I have to get my house ready and find some roommates. Plus I start work soon."  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"Somewhere new. Start over completely. I'm going to have a new identity and everything."  
  
"Do you have it all set up, properly? Do you want me to double check your papers?" Duncan asked eagerly.  
  
"Adam taught me how to do it all a while ago. I'm fine," Richie shot him down. "Thanks, though," he added, remembering his promise to Joe.  
  
The next afternoon Adam and Duncan took Richie to the airport. "Bye, Adam, it was good seeing you again," Richie gave him a firm handshake.  
  
"Watch your head."  
  
"Duncan," Richie offered him his hand reminiscent of the same solemn way they had parted years before.  
  
"Bye, Richie," Duncan shook his hand. "Be careful."  
  
It had not been the farewell Richie had been expecting. He tried for a hug anyway and got a stiff pat on the back in return.  
  
"See you around," he finally said, taking a step towards the ticket counter. "Maybe you can come by and see the new place sometime," he offered. Deciding that letting Duncan know where he would be wouldn't hurt anything. Coming home and leaving again was harder than he thought it would be. He had been determined to not get attached again. It didn't work out. "What do you think?"  
  
"Maybe," Duncan nodded and walked away. Richie cast Adam an appealing look.  
  
"Give him time," he told him.  
  
"Yesterday he would have asked where I was going."  
  
"Yesterday is not today."  
  
"That's why they call it yesterday."  
  
"And they is always tomorrow."  
  
"I really screwed this up didn't I?"  
  
"You made a decision that he wasn't ready for you to make."  
  
"I just wanted to prove I didn't have to rely on him anymore; I can do this on my own."  
  
"And you did. He just wasn't ready, yet."  
  
"It wasn't his decision."  
  
"He knows that. He just still felt that you needed guidance."  
  
"It's not like he was even really teaching me anymore. There was Miller and you and..."  
  
"And when you were in trouble who did you go to?"  
  
"Why is it that no matter where I stand in an argument, I'm always wrong?"  
  
"I'm just telling you where MacLeod is coming from," Adam said. "Give him time," he repeated before leaving.  
  
With a sigh, Richie went through the line and presented his ticket and ID to the woman behind the counter. Two hours later Rick Noel was on a plane to Hawaii. 


	2. The News

Disclaimers: I don't own HL or any of the related characters. I do own my characters. As far as I know Hawaii State University at Hilo, is a fictional school as intended as such, any infringement is coincidental.  
  
Hilo Village is based on Hilton Waikoloa Village in Hilo, Hawaii, where my family and I stayed this summer and it's where I got the idea to set the story in Hawaii. Aquatic Adventure is based on Dolphin Quest which is located within Waikoloa Village. All concepts were borrowed without permission.  
  
AN: I did a bit of research of Polynesian names while in Hawaii (they had these fun key chains with your name on one side and your Polynesian name on the other!) so I could use them in my story. I will throw in pronunciation the first time a new name comes up.  
  
Also a 'comp card' is a card employees and owners can use to get a discount at their business. Comp stands for complementary and is used to refer to products or discount given at the expense of the business. But since Richie owns the establishment he gets everything for free.  
  
CHAPTER TWO  
  
"Kemi [Keh-Me], wait up!" Richie called, jogging to slightly to catch up with her.  
  
"Hey, Likeke [Lee-Keh-Keh]. I was just looking for you." She smiled at him, stepping to the side of the walkway so they could talk without blocking other students on the way to class.  
  
"How is he doing?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
Richie rolled his eyes. "TG. Who else? How was he when you left?"  
  
"Cured. His cold seems to be gone. We let him out to swim with the other dolphins this morning." She started to walk toward her class.  
  
"I bet he was happy. He hates being in the pen."  
  
"Yeah, he was."  
  
They walked the rest of the way to Kemi's class in silence. As they made their way through the halls, Richie laced his fingers with hers and saw her smile faintly out of the corner of his eye. They stopped outside her classroom.  
  
"I guess I'd better get to work," he said reluctantly letting her hand go. "I've been putting off some paperwork and the boss is on my back to get it done."  
  
"Are you gonna be there tonight?" Kemi asked.  
  
"Yeah, I thought I'd get in some time with TG this afternoon, too, so I'll be there for a while."  
  
"I have some work I need to do, too. You want to get dinner afterward?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"Knock, knock," Kemi stuck her head over the small divider wall that separated her and Richie's cubicles. "You ready?"  
  
Richie nodded as he closed the folder with TG's medical information. "All done." He grabbed his bag and slipped his sandals back on. "Where do you want to go?" They walked around the corner to their boss' office. "Where do you want to go?"  
  
"I've been craving Visillini's for months," Kemi confessed.  
  
"You want to eat in The Village?"  
  
The Hilo Village, called simply The Village by employees, housed eight restaurants. Italian, Japanese, French, Mexican and Polynesian were all choices for the guests staying at the resort.  
  
"I like it and you're the only one I know who can afford it."  
  
By Richie's standards, Visillini's wasn't very expensive. But the prices were aimed at tourists so the prices were higher than the restaurants in town. But since Richie had spent so much time living off Duncan's pocketbook, he had become accustom to eating at higher end restaurants. That and Richie now owned The Hilo Village. It was one of the most popular resorts in Hawaii, had been used by several TV shows for their Hawaii episodes, been photographed for numerous magazines and named in the Top Ten World Destinations. It was very safe to say Richie was well off financially. He owned a small house that he rented to himself and five other students at Hawaii State. He had two jobs at the Village and worked at the Polynesian Cultural Center for a couple months in the summer. Money was no issue for Richie Ryan.  
  
"How do you know I can afford it?" Richie asked as they boarded the tram that would take them across the resort property.  
  
The resort spanned roughly six thousand acres on the coast. The rooms, restaurants and gift shops all faced the ocean, forming a u-shape around ten interlocking swimming pools and Aquatic Adventure (where Richie worked as a dolphin trainer when he wasn't life guarding). In order to get across the property, there was a tram that came by every seven minutes or a boat that ran on a track in a little river that came by every eleven minutes.  
  
"I see you eat at The Village all the time," Kemi told him with a smile as the doors closed. "But if it's too expensive...we can go somewhere else."  
  
"It's okay with me. But what makes you think I'm gonna pay for it all?" he teased.  
  
"Because you're too old fashioned for your own good and always pay for any girl at the table that isn't with her boyfriend," she smiled at him.  
  
"Am I really that transparent?"  
  
"You're just delightfully old fashioned," she smiled at him.  
  
"As long as it's delightful."  
  
The tram stopped just outside Visillini's and they got off. They had to wait for a while to get a table because they hit Visillini's at their rush hour and both Richie and Kemi were starving by the time they were seated and served.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"I miss Kansas, but I live it here," Kemi babbled as they munched on garlic bread and waited for the main course to arrive.  
  
"You know, I've known you for nearly a year and had no idea you were from Kansas," Richie mused. "You look so Hawaiian and the name and everything... I just assumed." The two had spent nearly every day together since they had met, but had never discussed their personal lives.  
  
"Kansas born and raised. My roommate in the dorms officially changed my name to Kemi my first night here."  
  
"So what's your real name?"  
  
"Jamie."  
  
"Oh. You learn something new everyday."  
  
"What about you? Where are you from?" she asked.  
  
"Here, originally. Well, not Hilo, but Hawaii. Just outside of Kawaihae [Kah-WahE-Haheh], actually. But I grew up on the mainland."  
  
"Really?" she asked. "Why would anyone leave here?"  
  
'Story time,' Richie thought. "My folks died when I was four. My uncle moved me and my sisters to a boarding school."  
  
"That sucks!"  
  
"It wasn't that bad. But I did move back as soon as I graduated."  
  
"I bet your sisters did, too."  
  
"No, they met boys, got married and stayed mainland. I bet I'm the only Noel in the state."  
  
"You know, that's not very Hawaiian. You don't look remotely Hawaiian," Kemi pointed out.  
  
Richie chuckled. "My dad was French. He and my mom met in France while my grandfather was stationed there in the army. When they got married they moved here because my mom wanted to."  
  
"My parents grew up together in Kansas; I'm pure Kansas."  
  
"I'm half American, half French and all Hawaiian...though I look Swedish," he finished with a laugh.  
  
"Albino Polynesian," Kemi grinned at him.  
  
"You should see people's faces when they go to the Polynesian Cultural Center when I'm working. I almost get more questions about that then about the fire dancing," he laughed.  
  
"I forgot you were a fire dancer. Is it hard?"  
  
"Not really."  
  
The food came and they chatted more about their upbringings until Richie successfully changed the topic; any immortal avoids talking about a fabricated past too much. Luckily TG was a topic both readily embraced.  
  
They were TG's co-trainers. They had bonded over the small dolphin. While Richie had spent a little less than a year as TG's only trainer and was completely devoted to him, he was more than happy to share the responsibility with another person.  
  
Richie had spent months of sleepless nights bottle feeding the dolphin when its mother rejected him after his birth. He held a deep bond with the animal and had even named him after himself. TG was the smallest of the dolphins in the pod and was constantly reminded that he was the lowest on the totem poll. The older male dolphins had scared the younger one whenever they thought he was forgetting his position. Richie couldn't help but understand the calf's situation, as he had felt picked on by stronger and more experienced immortals many times in his life. He found himself comforting the small dolphin and calling him 'tough guy' whenever another dolphin had hurt him. He then decided to call him TG instead of picking a Polynesian name as he had originally intended.  
  
Kemi had gotten into the training program a year later and assigned to TG as well. While their relationship had started out strictly professional, Richie was getting the feeling that wasn't so true anymore. Since Heather's rejection, he had been very reluctant to get back into dating. He had found things to distract himself with: work, training, looking at schools, the stock market, buying the Hilo Village and he had even gotten into gymnastics. Kemi was the first girl to spark his interest as a girlfriend as opposed to a casual date. When the bill came he didn't even look at it before sliding his comp card into the bill folder and looked at Kemi, his cheeks beginning to burn.  
  
"I don't suppose you'd want to do this as a more official occasion, would you?" he asked.  
  
"Official as in..."  
  
"A date. You know, a couple that hangs out together at a preset time and date?"  
  
Kemi giggled. "Are you asking me out?"  
  
"That was the general idea. Are you going to answer me or leave me hanging?"  
  
"I just think it's cute that you're so insecure."  
  
"Cute enough for you to say yes?"  
  
Richie smiled. "Friday good? Say...seven ish?"  
  
Kemi smiled. "Sounds great."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"Hey, Rick," Clayton, one of Richie's housemates, greeted as Richie entered the kitchen from the garage.  
  
"Sup, man?"  
  
"You have a visitor in the living room...and he's cute."  
  
Richie rolled his eyes and grinned. "I'm taken and I don't think your boyfriend would be too happy to hear you say that."  
  
"Are you kidding me? Jeff is in there flirting!"  
  
"Who is it?" Richie asked grinning.  
  
"I don't know. Tall, dark hair, great eyes...kinda old, though."  
  
"Huh," he grunted as he left the kitchen for the living room. "Alex, what are you doing here?" he asked in surprise. He had noticed a different Watcher tailing him for the last month.  
  
"We need to talk," Alex said in a tone the left no room for question.  
  
"Sure... Jeff, you mind?" he hinted.  
  
"Right." Jeff left the room and closed the door behind him.  
  
Richie sat in the chair across from Alex. "I thought you had been reassigned. I noticed some lady following me."  
  
"She was filling in while I went home on personal business."  
  
Richie shifted in his seat. "Is everything okay?"  
  
"Big picture, yes. But there is a problem."  
  
"It's Brandon, isn't it?"  
  
"You knew?" Alex demanded.  
  
"Yeah. Me, Mac, Adam, Joe, Amanda...of course we knew. Granted it took me a while to figure it out..."  
  
"And you didn't say anything?"  
  
"You know the rules, I couldn't."  
  
"He worshipped you!"  
  
"And now you know why."  
  
"He knew?" Alex asked.  
  
"Not so much knew as felt something. It's hard to explain."  
  
"So try."  
  
"Alex, that's not important right now," Richie insisted. "Man, he's gotta be what? 18 now?"  
  
"Yeah, a kid."  
  
"Lucky him," Richie mumbled. "How are your parents?"  
  
"They think he's dead."  
  
"How are they taking it?"  
  
"Mom's a mess. Dad seems to be okay."  
  
"What about Courtney?"  
  
Alex shook his head. "She's half of why I stayed so long. She's worse than Mom."  
  
"Then why are you here? Take care of your family."  
  
"I am."  
  
"Brandon?" Richie asked, as the point of the visit became clear.  
  
"He's with Heather and David in Virginia."  
  
"How is he?"  
  
"Confused."  
  
"Don't blame him."  
  
"Richie, you know what I came here to ask."  
  
"Can you take care of him for one more week?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"My roommates and I were going to go surfing in Maui for Spring Break. I'll stay here and see what I can do for him. That'll give us a little over a week to find a solution. They're leaving Friday morning. Just get Brandon here and I'll take care of everything else."  
  
"Thanks, Richie. I wasn't sure what else to do." Alex stood.  
  
"Not a problem." Richie stood and shook Alex's hand. "If you can't count on your friends, who can you count on?"  
  
"There's something else..."  
  
"Sure, what is it?"  
  
"Brandon may not want to come alone. He doesn't remember you. He's scared as it is."  
  
"I understand," Richie assured him. "However he's comfortable. Just keep it to people who already know."  
  
"Naturally," Alex agreed.  
  
"Just let me handle explaining the details. It may help getting it from someone like him."  
  
"An immortal?"  
  
"A teenage one to boot," he added. "I promise I'll take great care of him."  
  
"Thanks, Richie."  
  
"You know, you're the only person who still calls me that. I kinda miss it."  
  
"It must be hard to change identities."  
  
"Sometimes."  
  
"Well, I better get going. I have reports to make," Alex said after an awkward pause.  
  
"Yeah, flights to book, too. Just tell me when and I'll pick them up."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Richie walked Alex to the door then went to his room to come up with a plan. 


	3. Too many Guys

Richie spent the rest of the week making arrangements. He informed his five roommates that he would not be making the trip to Maui, but they could still use his uncle's island jet as planned. Once Alex called with flight times, Richie made arrangements to miss his last class Friday without penalty in order to pick up Heather and Brandon. His roommates left early Friday morning and Richie spent the day washing sheets and getting the house ready for his impromptu guests.  
  
He got to the airport half an hour before the plane was due. The airport was made of three open huts. One for check in, one for waiting for your flight and one for baggage claim. Richie parked in the small lot intended for the few people who weren't returning or renting a car.  
  
"Hey, Malua, " he smiled at the attendant on duty. They all knew him, he was usually the one who picked up the students who came for Aquatic Adventure's study camps.  
  
"Hey, Rick. No van?"  
  
"I'm here on personal business. No camps for a few weeks yet."  
  
He made his way to the baggage claim to wait. It wasn't long until he heard "Flight 29 from Honolulu now arriving," announced on the PA.  
  
He got up from his seat on the carousel when it started to move. A few seconds later suitcases started around. A few seconds after that, a buzz hit him. Despite knowing whom the buzz was coming from, his back stiffened. He stared at the group of passengers coming until he found the source. A tall, lanky, boy in his late teens with sandy blonde hair and an anxious look on his face met his eyes. Richie smiled at him and he ducked behind the man next to him. Richie approached the boy, trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible.  
  
"Just give it a minute," he told the boy. He nodded compliantly. Richie smiled at the man the teen was hiding behind. "Tell me that's Brandon O'Neal and I didn't just make a complete idiot out of myself."  
  
The man looked Richie up and down. "Are you Richie Ryan?"  
  
"Not anymore."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"I changed my name. I'm Rick Noel now, but I'm still Richie Ryan... that didn't make any sense. And you are?"  
  
"David McCormic, Heather's husband."  
  
"Husba...I mean, speaking of Heather, where is she?"  
  
"She left something on the plane and went back to get it."  
  
"Great, well, why don't we get the luggage and we'll be ready to go when gets here."  
  
He gestured the pair to go ahead of him. As they walked to the carousel, Richie took a minute to size up Heather's husband. He was taller, older, had broader shoulders and was a bit thicker in the waist, but still in decent to good shape. David did grunt when he picked up a large, but not too big, suitcase and put it with the others. Richie couldn't resist showing off. He picked up the suitcase pretending to move it out of another passenger's way. It was heavy, much more than he had figured, but he refused to let on.  
  
"Oh my God..." Richie turned around at the familiar voice. Heather was standing a few feet away. "Richie..."  
  
He gave her a smile. "You look great," he grinned looking her up and down before taking a few tentative steps forward.  
  
She threw herself at him. "You haven't changed at all. You look almost the exact same."  
  
"I look almost the exact same, but I haven't changed at all?" he laughed as they let go.  
  
"Well, not like me. I look so old."  
  
"You're just as beautiful as ever. More gorgeous than I remember," he assured her meaning every word of it.  
  
"And you're still a charmer."  
  
"I try."  
  
David cleared his throat and put his arm around Heather's shoulders. Richie took a courtesy step away from the other man's wife. "Um, Richie this is David, David this is Richie."  
  
They shook hands. "David, husband of Heather," Richie said with a polite smile.  
  
"The ex," David returned squeezing Richie's hand harder than necessary.  
  
"That's me," he answered. "Nice to meet you." David gave him a tight lipped smile. "Well..." Richie diverted his attention to the teen. "I bet you don't remember me at all."  
  
"I've seen pictures," Brandon told him. "From when I was little. You used to date Heather in college."  
  
"Exactly. I spent a lot of time with you those four years."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"I've been explaining to him how I know you and how you can help him," Heather explained. "He knows more than he remembers."  
  
"I expected as much," Richie told Brandon. "You were pretty young."  
  
"So, what have you been up to?" Heather asked after a brief silence.  
  
"Why don't we discuss it over dinner?" Richie offered. "We can take your bags to my place then hit Hilo for some food." They started toward the parking lot.  
  
"Why not go straight to Hilo?" David offered. "We can just put the bags in the trunk. I'm sure they'll be fine."  
  
"They'd be a little out in the open," Richie insisted. "That's me." He pointed to a roofless yellow jeep. "I only live, like, ten minutes away. And it's on the way to Hilo, too."  
  
The small trunk space could just hold two of the three suitcases. The other was wedged in the back seat between David and Brandon.  
  
"Sorry, I didn't know how many people were coming," Richie apologized cursing Alex for not warning him. "I would have brought the woody." Brandon snorted in the back seat. "Sorry, I would have brought the station wagon, that better?" Richie joked.  
  
"Yeah," the teen mumbled under his sister's glare.  
  
"Heather, he's fine," Richie assured her. "I would have done the same thing at his age."  
  
David sat quietly in the back seat scrutinizing the man in the driver's seat. He looked no older than Brandon, but according to Heather, he was 36. He had a sun bleached blonde ponytail at the base of his neck tied back in a leather cord, tan skin and lean muscles. He was wearing orange board shorts and a blue button down short sleeved shirt. The only thing that went against his mindless 'surfer dude' image was the wire rimmed glasses he wore.  
  
"This is it," Richie announced pulling into the driveway of a small two- story house on a street of small houses. He turned the car off and headed to the trunk. "Let's get these inside." He tossed Heather the keys and handed Brandon the smallest of the bags, taking the largest for himself. David reached for the bag left and ignored Richie's insistence that he would take the luggage in. Brandon and Heather were inside so they missed the opening battle in the struggle for male dominance. David won the first battle, but Richie wasn't going to give up that easily. It was his house, his state and his territory after all. Once inside Richie took charge again.  
  
"My roommates went out of town so we have the run of the place...except for these guys." He indicated the black dog excitedly sniffing everyone and the Flemish Giant rabbit hopping around in the corner by it's food dish. "This is Skye," he introduced slapping the dog's side affectionately. "And that is Finny." He pointed at the salt and pepper colored rabbit. "Who's hungry...just a second." He opened a low cabinet and put some food into one of the dishes on the floor. "You already ate," he shooed the dog away. "So...rooms."  
  
He put Heather and David in Clayton and Jeff's room because it was the only room with a queen sized bed instead of two twins. Brandon was given his choice of sharing Richie's room or having his own across the hall. He chose to have his own room. Once the decisions had been made, they all went back out to the jeep. Finny ran out with them and disappeared into the shrubs.  
  
"She always comes back," Richie assured a curious Heather. "This way there's less to clean up, you know?"  
  
They drove around Hilo until they decided to stop at Pizza Hut for dinner. They were seated after a short wait. David and Heather sat in one side of the booth while Brandon uncomfortably shared the other side with Richie. The waitress, approached the table.  
  
"Hey, Likeke, didn't know you were coming by tonight," she greeted. "What can I get you all to drink?" She took their order and left.  
  
"Who is that?" Heather asked eyeing the young girl.  
  
"That's Mel; she's in my religion class; we have a study group together."  
  
"Why'd she call you Likeke?" Brandon asked.  
  
"That's Richard in Polynesian. It's like a nickname. Yours would be Pu'ula'ahi [Poo-oola-ah-hi]." Brandon laughed. "Heather is Hekela [Heh- keh-la] and David is Awika [A-wee-kah]"  
  
Mel came by with their drinks and promised to be by in a minute to take their order.  
  
"Lets see if I can still remember," Heather teased. "Extra cheese, pepperoni, sausage, peppers, olives and garlic, right?"  
  
"Actually, I'm kosher now, so olives, mushrooms and tomatoes," Richie answered.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"As of about six years ago."  
  
"Well, I think Brandon and I decided on meat lovers," David announced. "What about you, darling?"  
  
"I think I'll get manicotti and steal from everyone else."  
  
Mel came and they ordered two large pizzas and one manicotti.  
  
"Are you really 35?" Brandon asked suddenly.  
  
"36," Richie corrected. "But as far as anyone else knows I'm 20."  
  
"You don't look 36."  
  
"That's something I'll tell you about when we get home. We can't talk about this in public. But I'll answer everything, I swear."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"So," Heather broke the silence. "What have you been up to?"  
  
"Not much," he shrugged. "Did the lawyer thing for about seven years and decided it was time to start over, so I'm a junior at Hawaii State."  
  
"What's your major?"  
  
"Marine biology."  
  
"Really? That must be interesting, you've always liked science."  
  
"It's harder than I thought it would be," Richie admitted. "But I like it."  
  
"You must have a great job to afford that house."  
  
"I have five roommates. But, I'm a dolphin trainer, mostly. I also do some lifeguarding, and other odd things at the resort I...and, uh...and I work at the cultural center for a month in the summer."  
  
"And you go to school full time...overachiever," Heather teased him.  
  
"What about you two?" Richie asked. "Alex says you're in Virginia now?"  
  
"Yes. I run the Community Theater," she said.  
  
"Like, at the top? Master and commander?"  
  
"That's me."  
  
"Wow, that's cool." He turned to David. "What about you?"  
  
"I own my own catering company."  
  
"Maybe you can make dinner some night. Just make a list and we'll get what you need."  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"So.... How did you guys meet?"  
  
"At church in Missouri."  
  
"I bet Steven liked that...a good church going guy."  
  
The pizzas arrived and conversation stopped in favor of dinner. They ate in silence. Richie found himself studying David as they ate. He wanted to find fault with the man Heather had married. He wanted to know he was the better man. But then again...if he was such a bad guy why did she choose David and reject Richie?  
  
David watched how Heather and Richie interacted. Despite their messy and emotionally draining break up they were at ease with each other. When Heather took a piece of his pizza, Richie reached over and cut a piece of her manicotti. No apologetic words had passed between them, no mention of their emotional parting, only an instant, comfortable, playful and affectionate relationship.  
  
When Mel passed by to refill their drinks, Richie handed her a credit card.  
  
"You don't have to do that," Heather chided.  
  
"Don't worry about it," he assured her. "As long as you're my guests, you don't have to spend a dime."  
  
"That's very nice of you..." David started.  
  
"I suppose," he interrupted. "But it's also my duty. So don't worry about it."  
  
"Duty?" Brandon asked.  
  
"You're under my protection now, which means that I take care of everything. And when you get a teacher, they'll do the same until you're ready to be on your own," he explained. Then to David and Heather, "That's just the way it works, so no arguments."  
  
"Like Duncan," Heather asked putting it all together. "He's imm... I mean, he's like you?"  
  
Richie paused, it really was none of his business to tell them who was and wasn't immortal. But, if things went according to plan they'd be finding out soon, anyway. "Yeah. He was my first teacher. He took care of me for a long time. Hey, uh, Alex didn't come with you guys, did he?"  
  
"He had some business. He said he'd be back in a few days. Why?"  
  
"I just need his help with something. I'll call him tonight."  
  
Mel came back with Richie's card and receipt. Once he signed they headed back to his house. The car was filled with a terse silence that continued even as they entered the house. Richie let Finny back in and headed straight to the living room to make his call. If any of this was going to work out, Alex had to pull through for him. 


	4. The Talk

Alex did indeed come through for Richie and had all the information he needed. After hanging up with Alex he picked up his cell phone and dialed what felt like a thousand numbers then waited for someone to pick up.  
  
"Hello?" an unfamiliar accented voice answered.  
  
"Uh, I'm looking for Duncan MacLeod. I think I have the right number..."  
  
"Oh, you do," the voice assured him. "I'll get him for you."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
There was a brief silence. "MacLeod," the line picked up again.  
  
"Hey, Mac, it's me," there was a pause. "Uh, Richie."  
  
"I know. Is everything okay?"  
  
Obviously Richie was more excited to talk to Duncan than Duncan was to talk to him.  
  
"Nothing's wrong, but I could use some help."  
  
"What's going on?" Duncan asked neutrally.  
  
"Brandon died. He's at my place right now. I was hoping you could help me out. I'm not really sure what to do."  
  
"Where are you?" Duncan asked, his tone changing.  
  
"Hawaii...the big island. Would it be a problem for you to get here?"  
  
"Of course not. I've got you on caller ID. What airport are you closest to?"  
  
"Hilo."  
  
"Alright, I'll call the airline then call you back."  
  
"Great. Uh, thanks, Mac."  
  
"No problem."  
  
They hung up.  
  
"Hi," Heather softly announced her presence.  
  
Richie turned around to face her. "Hey...you okay? You look a little...off."  
  
"All those things you told me about, the swords, hiding, killing...does Brandon have to do all that?"  
  
"He'll have to learn. Maybe you and David should join me and Brandon and I can explain what's happening to all of you."  
  
A few minutes later, they had all gathered in the living room. Brandon was on the couch between Heather and David and Richie was on the coffee table in front of them.  
  
"Okay, I'll give you the basics then you guys ask whatever you want. That sound okay?" Everyone agreed. "Okay, Brandon, you are immortal. That means you can't age; you'll heal very quickly...almost instantly...and the only way you can die permanently is if you get your head cut off. In order to avoid that, you'll have to learn how to use a sword and defend yourself. That's what you need a teacher for. That's what I'm going to help you with. I'll find you a teacher."  
  
"Will I have to cut people's heads off?" Brandon asked.  
  
"At times you will have the choice. Sometimes you won't have a choice. It's you or them."  
  
"No choice? Him or them?" Heather repeated.  
  
"It's called the Gathering. It's like this giant battle. Immortal versus immortal until there's only one left. It's, like, the whole reason for our existence, to try an' win."  
  
"You've taken heads? How many?" David demanded.  
  
Richie thought about it. "Somewhere between a dozen and twenty. I'm not big on killing. I try to avoid it when I can, but sometimes it's unavoidable."  
  
"How can you speak so calmly about murder?"  
  
"It's part of who I am," Richie defended. "Part of who Brandon is now, too."  
  
"That's a pretty crappy excuse. Would that hold up in court?"  
  
"This isn't about your laws," Richie told him, trying to hold his temper.  
  
"My laws?"  
  
"Yes, your laws. The Gathering has nothing to do with mortal laws. We have our own laws for the Game."  
  
"The Game, is that the Gathering?" Brandon asked.  
  
"Yes, kinda, it's more the fighting that happens."  
  
"What are the rules?"  
  
"Fight fair. You get your sword and that's it. Most people follow that one, but you have to look out for those who don't. You'll learn later that sometimes...well, Mac would kill me if I corrupted you like that so soon into all this. I'll let him make you honorable then I'll make you practical. The most important thing you have to remember is you can't fight on holy ground and all fights are one on one, no interfering once a fight is joined."  
  
"Holy ground?"  
  
"Anything that is considered holy to any religion, churches, graveyards, burial grounds...all that stuff. You'll always be safe when you're on holy ground. You can't kill there and neither can any other immortal. It's sanctuary."  
  
"But it's okay to kill anywhere else?"  
  
"If you have a reason," Richie told him sternly looking him straight in the eye. "You don't kill because you feel like it or you're mad or bored. You got me?" Brandon nodded. Richie's expression softened. "Look, man, I know this is hard to accept. It's pretty out there... but it's true."  
  
"I believe you."  
  
"Don't know why but you do?" Richie asked with a knowing smile.  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"That's what it was like for me, too."  
  
"He doesn't have a choice?" Heather asked.  
  
"Afraid not...unless he wants to be a monk or priest for a few thousand years or something. Which isn't unheard of. It is always an option. But even then, you have to train," he told Brandon. "Never assume you're safe."  
  
"What if someone challenges me? I don't know how to fight."  
  
"There is one exception to no interfering. And that's if you're under someone's protection. Which you are. As long as you're learning, your teacher will protect you. Only when you are ready, will you be able to take on your own challenge."  
  
"How do you know when you're ready?"  
  
"Your teacher tells you." As if on cue the phone rang. Richie smiled reading the caller ID on his cell phone. "Speaking of...Hello? Hey, Mac...okay, hang on a sec." He got up and jogged into the kitchen so he could write down the flight information. "Okay, got it," his voice floated into the living room. "No, don't worry about that, I'll come get you." There was a knock on the front door. "Uh, yeah, no problem." He went to answer the door. "Yeah, sure, of course. Plenty of room for ya. Look, someone's at the door." He opened it and found Kemi on his porch. "Oh crap... I gotta go. See you Sunday. No, no nothing's wrong. I just gotta go. Bye." He hung up. "I am so sorry, Kemi," he said opening the door so she could step inside.  
  
"What happened? Where were you?"  
  
"Kemi, I'm sorry. Something came up; I totally forgot."  
  
"Really?" Kemi wasn't buying it.  
  
"Richie, is everything okay?" Heather asked coming around the corner.  
  
"Something came up?" Kemi asked crossing her arms. "Who's that?"  
  
Richie's mind raced. "My sister," he heard himself answer. "Heather... Uh, Heather this is Kemi. I kinda stood her up tonight."  
  
"It's nice to meet you, Kemi," Heather said slipping into the role Richie had given her. "Richie told me a lot about you. It was really cute how excited he was when he finally asked you out. I've been telling him to for ages."  
  
"Yeah...on that note, you wanna talk outside?" Richie offered, opening the door and gesturing her ahead of him.  
  
Heather smiled at him as he closed the door behind himself. She couldn't resist peeking out the window. They talked for a minute then sat down on the swinging bench. They were angled toward each other, holding hands. Richie was leaning in to her speaking softly and grinning shyly every time he looked up at her. Soon he had her smiling and nodding her head. She said something and he laughed then leaned in to kiss her.  
  
Heather stepped back and let the curtain fall closed. She used to be the one sitting on the porch making out with him. She had been the young object of his affection. It was hard to see him, looking the same young age flirting with and kissing a young girl. She stood frozen in the foyer for a brief moment until David came to see what had happened.  
  
"Oh, uh, Richie's girlfriend came by," she explained. "He accidentally stood her up because of us."  
  
"That's really tacky of him, parading her around like that," David mumbled peeking out the window at the couple making out on the porch.  
  
"He's not parading, you're spying. He was plenty flustered when she showed up. We should leave them alone." She turned and headed back to the living room.  
  
"I really don't like this guy," David said following her. "All this crap he's been spouting off about living forever, fighting with swords...you don't believe all this do you?"  
  
"Of course I do. Richie's a year older than I am and looks like he just graduated from high school. You've seen Brandon's car, there's no way he should be alive, much less on vacation in Hawaii. Alex's entire profession revolves around it. What am I supposed to believe?"  
  
Before David could answer the door opened and Richie yelled an apology. "Heather, I'm sorry...that was incredibly awkward," he said with a shy grin approaching them. "That whole sister thing just came out. I hope you don't mind. I totally forgot about our date and panicked when she showed up."  
  
"She isn't mad at you, is she?"  
  
"Naw, we're cool."  
  
"Who?" Brandon asked coming out to see what they were talking about.  
  
"Kemi... my sorta girlfriend."  
  
"How can she only sorta be your girlfriend?"  
  
"Tonight was supposed to be our first date, but I kinda...forgot about it in all the excitement."  
  
"I'm sorry," Brandon mumbled looking at his feet.  
  
"For what?" Brandon didn't answer. "Can you give us a sec?" he asked Heather and David. "Okay, come 'ere." He took him Brandon to the couch and they sat down. "It's not your fault you died. And just so we have the record straight, I told Alex to bring you here. He didn't ask me. This isn't any sort of burden. I happen to like you."  
  
"You barely know me."  
  
"So I haven't seen you in a few years. You used to kick my butt at Nintendo everyday. We used to play catch, go for walks, do all sorts of stuff. You don't remember, but I do." Brandon just looked at him. "I do realize how creepy that sounded, but just take it as I do know you."  
  
Brandon smiled. "Okay."  
  
"So don't feel bad. I knew this would happen, but I was hoping you'd at least make it longer than I did."  
  
"How old were you?"  
  
"19, just barely, so not much older than you."  
  
"How long ago?"  
  
"About 15 years."  
  
"That is so bizarre. You look like you could be my twin."  
  
Richie smiled. "You'll get used to the idea."  
  
"How long did it take you?"  
  
"I got introduced to this differently than you did. I knew about immortals about a year before I died, and I was always suspicious, anyway. But I was given this all a lot more gradually than you."  
  
"Really? What happened?"  
  
Richie smiled. "I'll tell you later."  
  
"But..." Brandon protested.  
  
"It's getting late."  
  
"It's only ten!"  
  
"And you have an early start in the morning. So, unless you want to be dead on your feet I suggest you get to bed."  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"I'll be right behind you. We're talking early, so be ready for me."  
  
Everyone said their good nights and they went to bed.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
At five fifteen the next morning, Richie, dressed and ready to go, snuck into Brandon's room with his Discman in his hands. He slid the headphones over Brandon's ears and hit play. The teen jerked awake the flung the headphones across the room.  
  
"Don't you like Bowling for Soup?" Richie asked innocently. Brandon stared at him from where he was huddled against the headboard. "Be ready in ten minutes."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"We'll start easy today, just a couple miles."  
  
"Running?"  
  
"Jogging, probably. It depends on how in shape you are. I'll make us something to eat while you get dressed."  
  
Brandon trudged into the kitchen fifteen minutes later, dressed in gym shorts and a T-shirt. Richie handed him a protein shake. "It's good, I promise. I put in lots of chocolate." Brandon took the glass and sniffed at it. "I wouldn't advise that. It tastes good, but smells like crap." He held up his own glass in salute then downed it. Brandon followed suit.  
  
"Not bad," he commented.  
  
"Told ya," Richie grinned. "Okay, just in case Heather or what's-his-name get up before we get back..." He wrote a note on the refrigerator door with a dry erase marker. "But we shouldn't be too long."  
  
They walked out into the front yard where Skye was waiting for them. Richie led Brandon through some stretches while Skye bounced around them. "You may think this is pointless, but once I was running late and skipped it...I was in agony," Richie warned. "It's up to you when you're on your own, but any teacher is going to make you."  
  
The three jogged the bike path through Richie's neighborhood. They stopped to flirt with a couple girls roller blading down the same path.  
  
"See early morning jogging isn't so bad when you take the scenery into account," Richie panted as he and Brandon slowed down to a walk for the last quarter mile. Brandon could only nod in response because he was panting so hard. "It'll get easier, trust me." Richie clapped the younger immortal on the back as they went up the steps to the porch. "Why don't you hit the showers and I'll make us some eggs. Brandon nodded and stumbled down the hall.  
  
"You must have really put him through the ringer," Heather greeted Richie from the kitchen table as he rounded the corner. "I hope you don't mind. I snooped and made some coffee." She held up her cup.  
  
"Oh, yeah, no prob...mi casa es su casa. Just make yourself at home." He rummaged through the empty cabinets and refrigerator. "Well, crap."  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"For all the stuff I did to get ready for you guys coming I, in my infinite wisdom, forgot to go to the store."  
  
"Ooooohh, smart one."  
  
"Genius material. I can't believe I didn't notice how empty this thing was this morning," he laughed. "It echoes in here!"  
  
Heather laughed. "I'm sure we can survive on Pop Tarts today."  
  
"Trust me, Brandon's gonna want more."  
  
"You're gonna want more, you mean."  
  
"That too," he admitted. "I'll go get cleaned up and then we can all go get some food. And then I'll hit the store some time today."  
  
"Richie, we'll be fine. You don't have to do all this. I actually feel really bad for dumping all this on you," she protested. "But after the accident..." she teared up. "I'm sorry, it's just... I didn't know what to do and when Alex said he knew where you were... It was all.... I'm sorry." She wiped at her eyes.  
  
"No, Heather." Richie knelt in front of her. "First off, you know I don't handle crying women well." She laughed. "There's that smile I fell in love with. And if you promise not to hate me, I'll admit that I knew this was gonna happen."  
  
"You knew?" David asked from the doorway.  
  
Richie looked up, he hadn't noticed the mortal. "Yeah. And I know it's rotten of me to not have said anything. But I couldn't." He looked back at Heather. "That's part of why I wanted you to know you could always come to me if something happened. I'm sorry, but I couldn't tell you."  
  
"Why not?" she asked.  
  
He shrugged. "Tradition, I guess."  
  
"Tradition?" She repeated with a slight edge in her voice.  
  
"Heather, I was new to this, I still am. I can't judge by situation, I just go by what I've been told."  
  
"That's a stupid tradition," David scoffed.  
  
"Hey!" Richie stood up. "That's what Mac did to me and I turned out just fine," he snapped.  
  
"Richie..." Heather stood as well. "Don't get so upset."  
  
Richie paused. "Sorry," he apologized. "Don't know what that was all about."  
  
"Is something wrong with you and Duncan?" Heather asked.  
  
"We had a fight a few years back, and... well, we're still kinda at odds with each other."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Richie paused. "It's hard to explain. But we'll work it out, don't worry." Heather still looked worried. "Don't sweat it. If we can't work it out, we'll just pretend it never happened and beat the crap outta each other sparring or something," he smiled at her. "We're manly that way." Richie saw Heather's mouth open, then close as if she was going to say something and changed her mind. "What? You know you can ask me anything. I may not answer, but you can ask," he grinned.  
  
"Nothing important. I just wanted to know when Duncan was going to arrive."  
  
Richie automatically looked down at his watch, "Oh crap." He started moving towards the other room. "His plane is due in a couple hours. If I clean up now, we have time to go to breakfast and make it to the airport in time to pick him up. I'll be out in 15." Richie cleared the doorway he was standing in and made a run to his bedroom and the free bathroom to clean up. It'd be a record, but he could take a shower and be ready to go in time. As he passed the bathroom Brandon was in, he banged on the door. "Hurry up, we gotta get going in 15 minutes so we can pick up Mac at the airport!"  
  
Without waiting for Brandon to answer, he finished grabbing his clothes and headed for the shower. After one of the quickest showers he had ever taken in his life, he met the others at the door and shoved them with him on his way to the car. "Come on, this place I know makes the BEST pancakes and waffles ever." 


	5. One More Addition

AN: Thanks to all who pointed out my little blunders last chap. I think I got them all fixed. And to those of you looking for no angst...all I can say is I'll try to take it easy, but in this situation you know there's gonna be some.  
  
CHAPTER FIVE  
  
"Well, I have good news and bad news," Richie said returning to the table at Lori's Diner after stepping out to check on Duncan's flight's status. "The good news is Mac's flight was delayed so we have plenty of time to eat and relax. The bad news is we have enough time to relax and eat but not enough time to relax, eat and then do something."  
  
"So what are we going to do?" Heather asked.  
  
"That's up to you guys. I am perfectly happy sitting in the sun reading for an hour or so until he lands. But that would be terribly antisocial of me. So...I can take you back to my place or the Village or the city or we can come up with something to talk about while we wait at the airport."  
  
"What's The Village?" Brandon asked.  
  
"It's where I work. It's a resort that has all sorts of shops and pools and a beach and all sorts of junk."  
  
"That sounds cool."  
  
Their food came and they talked about their options; ultimately it was decided that Richie was going to drop them back at his house before going to the airport alone to get Duncan. After Richie paid the check, they went back to his house. Brandon settled himself on Richie's computer while David and Heather settled together in front of the TV. Richie wrote his cell number on the freezer door before heading out.  
  
Once again he parked and sat down on the luggage carousel, this time with his copy of "The Literary Offences of Fenimore Cooper" in hand. He laughed out loud at one point, attracting the attention of one of the workers.  
  
"Twain," he explained holding up his book. The man just nodded and proceeded to ignore Richie as he finished his work.  
  
Nearly an hour after Richie had arrived, the flight's arrival was announced. From experience Richie knew Duncan would be the last off the plane because he had to help anyone and everyone he could first. So Richie moved off the carousel and settled on the ground against a pillar to wait some more. He had barely read a paragraph when the buzz hit him. He took a minute to collect himself before standing up and searching the crowd for a familiar face. He found the source of the buzz, but it wasn't Duncan. Richie was about to blow it off as an immortal on vacation when a light haired teen bounded toward him.  
  
"Wow! You look so different!" the teen exclaimed coming to a stop in front of him.  
  
"Excuse me?" Richie asked.  
  
"Wow, I thought you'd be a bit taller, though. But it's so cool to finally meet you!" He grabbed Richie's hand and shook it almost violently.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"Anthony Gibbs."  
  
"Do I know you?" Richie asked, slightly stunned by the British boy's enthusiasm.  
  
"Oh, um, I suppose not. I'm Anthony Gibbs," he shook Richie's hand, which he had held onto the entire time, again.  
  
"Uh-huh. And you know me...how, exactly?"  
  
"MacLeod," Anthony answered happily.  
  
"Mac?"  
  
"Nice hair." Richie turned around and found Duncan standing behind him.  
  
"Hey, Mac."  
  
"Hey, yourself." The looked each other over for a few awkward minutes. "Where is everyone else?"  
  
"Oh, uh." Richie snapped out of his trance like state. "Back at my place. I guess we'd better get your stuff and get headed out, huh?" He started toward the luggage carousel. "So... You're in the UK now, huh?" he tried to make conversation.  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
"Anthony's accent...but I guess with you I should know better."  
  
"Cardiff," Duncan answered. "West of London on the coast."  
  
"Oh, cool. Is it nice?"  
  
"Yeah, it's nice."  
  
They stood by the carousel waiting for the bags to come around. When one did, Duncan merely pointed it out for Richie to get, which he did. In silence, they got the bags and headed for the car.  
  
"Wow, is this your car?" Anthony asked while Richie put the bags in the trunk of the jeep.  
  
"No, I thought I'd steal it because I've always wanted one." He rolled his eyes.  
  
"Do you really know how to pick locks and hot wire cars?"  
  
"You have a lot of energy, don't you?" Richie mumbled getting into the driver's seat.  
  
"Mac says I'm a lot like you were at my age."  
  
"Oh really?"  
  
"Yeah, he says it all the time."  
  
"Lucky me." Richie backed the car out of the parking space and didn't miss Duncan's "be nice" glare as he turned back around to drive forward.  
  
The ride to Richie's house was silent, except for Anthony's constant chatter in the back seat as he commented on anything his eyes happened to land upon. "Where are all the palm trees? Where's the beach? What's all this black stuff? Why do people spell out their names in white rocks on the black stuff? Where do you live? Do you surf? Wow, there are a lot of convertibles out here."  
  
Richie was gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. He wasn't quite sure what had him so tense. He wanted to say it was the constant chatter of the young immortal behind him, but he knew that wasn't it. It was simply that the young immortal what's-his-name was there at all. Richie knew it was pathetic that he was jealous of a...well, younger immortal that he's only known for all of twenty minutes, if that. But it was more pathetic, he realized, that he was fully aware of his unwarranted jealousy and had no means or desire to get rid of the feeling. He was childishly content being possessive of his teacher.  
  
"Richie?"  
  
"Huh?" Richie shook his head. "What'd you say, Mac?"  
  
"I was apologizing for not telling you about Anthony. He slipped my mind while I was talking to you. I only realized when he ran off to find you that you had no idea he was coming."  
  
"Oh, it's cool. There's plenty of room in the inn."  
  
Silence once again reigned in the jeep. It was broken when Richie honked the horn as he pulled into the driveway.  
  
"This is it." In a repeat of yesterday, he got out of the car and headed for the trunk, handing the smallest bag to the smallest immortal and keeping what he assumed was Duncan's for himself to carry. "Just us good guys," he assured Brandon as they entered the living room, where the teen sat still surfing the net on Richie's computer.  
  
"Mac, I'm sure you remember Heather," he started the introductions. "And this is Brandon. And Heather's husband, David." Nice to meet you's were passed around. "And this is Anthony, Mac's...uh, new student."  
  
Awkward silence settled on the group as they searched for something to say. Slowly small talk started to take over and a little after that the teenagers got bored and Richie casually mentioned the video games in his bedroom. A split second later the adults were the only ones left in the living room. They were all at a loss for what to do or say. Finally, Richie decided to play the good host.  
  
"Would anyone like a drink?" he offered, standing up.  
  
"What do you have?" Duncan asked.  
  
"Lemme check." He disappeared into the kitchen only to return a few minutes later with a pad of paper and a pen. "Well, once again my lack of total preparedness shines through. I have water, water with ice, one Pepsi and some pretty nasty, most likely gone bad lemon-aid. So, tell me what you like and you can have it in an hour or so, until then you can fight over the soda or have water." Laughing, Heather made a few suggestions, which Richie scribbled down on the pad before turning his attention to David, then Duncan. "Oh," he said in slight surprise to Duncan's suggestion to beer. "Someone will have to come with me then. As far as I can prove, I'm only 20 now."  
  
"I'll go," Heather offered.  
  
"Groovy. So what does everyone want around here as far as food goes?" He wrote down the suggestions then went to go ask the boys what they wanted. Once he had his list ready, he and Heather left for the store.  
  
"So, are you immortal?" David asked Duncan.  
  
"Yes, I was Richie's first teacher."  
  
"So, what are you, a hundred years old?"  
  
"Close...420. Well, 418."  
  
David stared at him. "Richie really is serious. Brandon can live to be hundreds of years old?"  
  
"Brandon can live to be thousands of years old. It all depends on how good he is with a sword."  
  
"He doesn't have one."  
  
Duncan smiled. "Most immortals don't come sword in hand these days. Either Richie or I will get him one. Until then I brought him something to practice with."  
  
"Is that one of the things a teacher does?"  
  
"I'm not going to teach Brandon. I'm teaching Anthony right now. Two immortal teenagers is something no one should have to suffer through."  
  
"They seem to get along," David observed, hearing the playful jabs coming from down the hall.  
  
"They probably will become friends," Duncan agreed. "But I've dealt with Richie at this age and have no intention of putting myself in the position of taking care of two of him. It's easier to teach one teenager at a time. I am, however, willing to take care of Brandon if Richie can't until we find him a teacher."  
  
"What about his sword? Doesn't he need a good one now?"  
  
"When I said I brought him a practice sword, I didn't mean I brought him one that can't serve him well. But, it is his teacher's job to give him the sword he will use for the rest of his life."  
  
"You've had the same sword since you became immortal?"  
  
"Well, no. My first one eventually broke, so got myself a new one. Then a friend gave me one as a very special gift and I've had that one ever since. As far as I know, Richie still uses the same sword I gave him when he was 19."  
  
"So this is all true. Immortals, swords, beheadings?"  
  
"It is. Sometimes it can be a curse, but in the long run it is a great gift. I've seen things that children only read about in books. I've stood five feet away from Hitler; I've met royalty; I've served in many wars. I've seen the times come and go. I know languages that haven't been spoken in thousands of years. I've met people who can remember Caesar, Cleopatra, William the Conqueror, Queen Elizabeth the first. I've lived history. The first time I came to America, it wasn't half this size."  
  
"Seriously?"  
  
"Yes. Brandon can do that too. In a few thousand years, he may be telling stories of what it's like now to kids who only know what their history books tell them."  
  
At the store, Heather and Richie meandered up and down the aisles tossing anything that looked appealing into the basket Richie was pushing.  
  
"It's really good to see you again," Richie said, jumping to get some double stuffed Oreos off the top shelf. "I've been wondering how you've been doing."  
  
"I've been doing really well, actually," she answered. "David and I..." she trailed off. "I really like the theater."  
  
"Cool." They started up the soup aisle. "How are your parents and Courtney?"  
  
"Their doing fine, considering. Courtney is about to graduate from Somo."  
  
Richie grinned. "That's awesome. Good for her. What's her major?"  
  
"History. She really likes Alex's job."  
  
"What? Does she know about...?"  
  
"No. But all she knows is Alex is a historian and gets to travel all over the world."  
  
"You don't think he's going to get her into the Watchers, do you?"  
  
"I don't know. Is it dangerous?"  
  
"Depends on what she'd be doing. Research isn't dangerous. Tailing someone may be depending on who she's assigned to."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Not all of us are good, Heather. Can you grab a couple boxes of those?" He pointed to the rare boxes of Matzos on the shelf. "We're just like you guys. Some good, some bad, some interesting, some boring. Being a field Watcher is like being an undercover cop. You never know who you're following and what may happen."  
  
"Is it dangerous for Alex to follow you?"  
  
Richie snorted as he picked through the tomatoes. "Yeah, right. My life is totally boring. I wake up, run, go to school, go to work and go home. Sometimes you can throw in something exciting like soccer practice or temple. The people I run into around here are on vacation and want nothing to do with me, unless I happen to be doing room service that night."  
  
"Is Brandon in danger?"  
  
"I suppose. I mean, there's always the possibility that some whack job head hunter may pop out of the shadows."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Sure, you remember that power outage at your cousin's wedding?"  
  
"Mary Beth's?"  
  
"Yeah. That was from a Quickening. A head hunter picked a fight with me and I beat him."  
  
"Just like that?"  
  
"Just like that. Do you like red or green apples?"  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"Die Emperial scum!!" Brandon yelled thrashing his controller around in an attempt to somehow manipulate his Jedi on the screen.  
  
"Not a chance, pathetic Jedi. My Force is strong!"  
  
"The Dark Side will never win!"  
  
"Oh, but it will, you'll see. Your Muppet of a master has taught you nothing!"  
  
"Yoda is not a Muppet!"  
  
"Might as well be!" Brandon's Jedi fall to his knees and Anthony started a little victory dance. "Told you!"  
  
Brandon put down this controller. "So where are you from?" he asked.  
  
"England. What about you?"  
  
"Missouri."  
  
"How old are you?"  
  
"18."  
  
"Me, too! I died about five months ago. What about you?"  
  
"A couple weeks."  
  
"Wow, you are new!"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"So you've never used a sword, have you?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"If you're anything like me, you'll love it. It's a lot of fun. Though, Mac does tend to get a little intense at times."  
  
"What do you mean?" Brandon shifted his weight so he was sitting cross- legged on the bed facing Anthony.  
  
"He yells, doesn't hold back at all. He'll slam you around like it's the real thing if he thinks you're not paying attention."  
  
"Really? Even when you're just starting?"  
  
Anthony shrugged. "I think it depends on the situation. I thought he was pretty rough with me at first and when I called him on it, he said he was a lot easier on me than he was on Richie. Apparently not a week after he became immortal Richie had some old girl after him."  
  
"That soon?"  
  
"Yeah, he was trying to stop her from killing some diplomat or something, and accidentally killed her husband."  
  
"Did he take her head?"  
  
"No. He wasn't ready yet."  
  
"Oh. Have you taken a head yet?"  
  
"Me? Of course not! Mac still takes up any of my challenges. He says I'm no where near ready yet."  
  
A buzz hit both boys, stopping their conversation. "Hey, guys," Richie came into the room. "Groceries in the car. Have at it." He turned and left again.  
  
Brandon looked at Anthony. "How uncool was that?" he complained.  
  
Anthony smiled. "You'll get used to it."  
  
"Are people going to start ordering me around now?"  
  
"Certain ones. See, there's a hierarchy with immortals. See, as a student you do what your teacher tells you," he explained turning off the TV and game system.  
  
"But Richie said he's not going to be my teacher."  
  
"But he is protecting you, which puts you in the same situation."  
  
"So why do you have to listen to him?"  
  
"Because he was my teacher's student before I was. So I'm supposed to give him the same respect I would Mac. It's kinda complicated. What it really boils down to is who's older."  
  
"Oh." Brandon followed Anthony down the hall and out to the car. "So does that mean that Richie has to listen to Mac?"  
  
"Of course, Mac was his teacher."  
  
Anthony's point was proven a few minutes later as the boys started to unload the sacks of food they hand brought in from the car.  
  
"Richie," Duncan looked at him from across the table. "What are you making them do that for?" Richie just looked at him. "Go help them."  
  
"But..." Richie started.  
  
"It's your house; you know where everything goes."  
  
Rolling his eyes, Richie got up and took a six pack of soda out of a bag.  
  
"Forgot it goes both ways, eh?" Anthony asked.  
  
Richie handed him the sodas. "The fridge in the garage, bottom shelf... Oh," he handed him a bag of frozen food. "Put these in the freezer while you're at it," he instructed with a don't-get-smart-with-me-I-can-still-boss-you- around grin.  
  
While the two youngest immortals put the food away while Richie directed them, Richie and the other adults made plans for the night. Once the boys were done putting the food away, they headed out for a late lunch so Richie could take them on a tour of The Village before the luau there later that night. 


	6. Mac's Talk Part One

AN: Sorry to take so long updating. I have no excuse other than writer's block. Thank you Lori, Bev, and Neoinean for listening to me complain and plot and throwing in some ideas to help. You guys ROCK!  
  
"Hey, they have the pig on a spit and everything!" Anthony exclaimed, dragging Brandon over for a look.  
  
"We're getting a table!" Heather called after them. "Richie, this is really neat."  
  
"Thanks," he answered distractedly looking over the buffet. He grabbed a few purple taro rolls before following the others in their search for six seats together amid the long tables.  
  
"What is that?" David asked.  
  
"Taro roll. It's made with Poi, that's why it's purple. They're good." He handed one over as they took over the midsection of a table. "Try it."  
  
David tentatively took a bite. "It's sweet," he said in surprise.  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Lekeke!" someone called jogging up the aisle in a robe towards them. "Thank God you're here, cuz!"  
  
Richie got a slightly panicked look on his face. "What's wrong?"  
  
"It's Keleko...he's sick," the stranger informed him.  
  
Richie's jaw dropped. "Oh, no... nununununo. No no no! I'm not...no... just no, okay? No!"  
  
"C'mon, cuz. We need you, man!"  
  
"No. I'm on vacation here. I'm with my family..."  
  
"Family?"  
  
Richie sighed. "Heather, David, Mac. Anthony and Brandon are around here somewhere."  
  
"Nice to meet you, I'm Michael. Please, cuz, I'm begging you here. We need a..."  
  
"Don't you say it," he warned.  
  
"What's a luau without a..."  
  
"Please, I'm begging you, now." He stood and tried to move the conversation elsewhere.  
  
"C'mon, we need a..."  
  
"Don't..."  
  
"Fire dancer."  
  
"Fire dancer?" Heater squealed. Richie blushed. "This I have to see."  
  
"No, you don't..."  
  
"Sure she does, Likeke!" Michael insisted. "Come on, for me?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, that's a real inspiration."  
  
"Then for this pretty young lady, then."  
  
"No, man. No one is gonna notice. Lemme have my vacation."  
  
"Richie's not the type, anyway," Duncan piped up. Richie looked at him. "He doesn't have the grace, skill, talent or balls to do it," he said slowly.  
  
Richie inhaled deeply, puffing out his chest. "I'll see you guys after dinner." He turned on his heel and left.  
  
"And he doesn't have the sense to realize when I'm manipulating him, either," Duncan finished with a smile.  
  
"You are positively evil!" Heather laughed swatting at Duncan's arm.  
  
He shrugged, truly wondering why he had tricked his former student into performing... "Habit."  
  
Not long after Richie had disappeared, the luau began. There were singers and dancers and story tellers to entertain the crowd. There was an MC who came out to introduce the acts and entertain between them.  
  
"Siva Naifi Afi," The MC said as a young man made his way into the stage.  
  
"That's Richie," Heather said excitedly.  
  
The group stared at the young man on stage. He was wearing a loincloth. That was it as far as clothing went, Heather noted with a slight grin. He had a flower lei po'o {head lei}, a shark tooth and lava bead lei, and grass arm bands and anklets on.  
  
"The traditional Samoan fire knife dance is when the warrior gets his chance to show his strength, bravery and courage. Tonight our own Likeke, one of our dolphin trainers, will moonlight for you as our fire dancer. While he may not be Samoan by birth, he is one of the best fire dancers you will find in the islands."  
  
"He has balls," Brandon said over his food. "I wouldn't be caught dead on stage like that!"  
  
"You couldn't pay me enough to do that!" Anthony agreed.  
  
"Shh!" Heather hissed.  
  
Richie was completely uninhibited as he toyed with and played to the audience as he carefully executed moves with his fire staff. Duncan recognized some of his moves in Richie's routine. Anthony excitedly pointed out a kata Duncan had taught him as well. Then Richie abandoned his staff in favor of fire chains, which he used to demonstrate a traditional Samoan dance. The chains left blazing circles in the air as he spun them in intricate patterns. The audience cheered and screamed at his show. Cameras flashed and he even went down into the audience and posed for a few pictures. He smiled and did his dance to the beat of the drums banging in the background while everyone clapped and screamed as he stole the show. When he was done, he was honored with a standing ovation from half the crowd.  
  
Ten minutes after he had gone off stage, Richie appeared back at the table with a plate full of food.  
  
"Did I miss anything good?" he asked innocently.  
  
"You were wonderful!" Heather cheered excitedly giving him a strong hug and peck on the cheek.  
  
"Thanks," he blushed happily, not missing how her fingers lingered on the back of his neck a bit longer than necessary. "And you..." he turned to face Duncan. "I'm on to your little game, just so you know."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It may have taken me a second, but I know what you did."  
  
Duncan smiled. "Too late to do anything, now, isn't it?"  
  
"How did you learn all that stuff?" Brandon asked.  
  
"Friends, classes, made some of it up..." he shrugged. "Not so hard when you've been working with the same weapons for years."  
  
"I can do that," Anthony announced proudly. "Well, not the fire part, but some of the rest."  
  
"Good for you, kid."  
  
They spent another hour talking and eating before they decided to head back to Richie's house. Brandon immediately insisted his new best friend, Anthony, sleep in the other bed in the room he was using. That left Duncan in the only other spare bed in the house, which was in Richie's room. The teens may have been getting along, but there was still an odd stiffness between the former student/teacher pair across the hall. While Duncan and Richie were experts at pretending there was nothing wrong between them, they also knew when something was off. Something was definitely off.  
  
"I swear if you two don't shut up, I'm getting you up at four and you'll regret ever second of it!" Richie shouted across the hall at the babbling teenagers. He turned back into the room he was sharing with Duncan.  
  
"I remember yelling at you like that," Duncan mused, looking up from his book.  
  
"Don't start," Richie shot back playfully.  
  
"You grew out your hair," Duncan observed changing the subject, instead of pressing the subject like he used to.  
  
"Uh, yeah. A while ago. That's why it looked so bad...back in Washington." Richie opened the closet to toss in shirt in the laundry hamper.  
  
"I thought I told you no tattoos."  
  
"What?" Richie turned back around.  
  
"You got that tattoo again."  
  
"Yes, I did. And it's real so there's nothing you can do about it." Five years previous, Richie had gotten the Celtic infinity knot tattooed on his lower back. Five years before that he had gotten a similar one in henna that Duncan and Conner had scrubbed off with what felt like steel wool.  
  
"What about the glasses? They can't be real."  
  
Small talk, another sure sign things were still off between the once close pair.  
  
Richie sat down on his bed and put the glasses on the nightstand. "I thought they looked nice."  
  
"They do. Just, if you don't need them why have them?"  
  
"Disguise. I thought it was very Clark Kent of me."  
  
An uncomfortable silence fell over the pair as Richie continued to get ready for bed. "Well, uh... guess I'm done. You can turn off the light when you're ready."  
  
"Oh, well, I'm ready when you are." Duncan put his book down.  
  
"No, you were reading. I can sleep with the light on."  
  
"I was just waiting for you."  
  
"You're probably in the middle of the chapter. Finish it."  
  
"I've read this before. Just turn out the light."  
  
"You can't stop in the middle of a chapter. Finish," Richie insisted.  
  
"It won't kill me," Duncan rebutted a slight edge to his voice.  
  
"Won't kill me either."  
  
"Richie! Just shut off the light!"  
  
"Why are you yelling at me?" Richie demanded, standing up.  
  
"Because you're making me mad!"  
  
"What'd I do?"  
  
"...Just turn out the light and go to bed," Duncan snapped.  
  
Richie stood there between the twin beds for a second before going over and turning out the light then walking out the door and down the hall. Duncan lay in bed for a minute before getting up and going after him.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
Richie flipped the channels on the TV. "Putting up a chair rail; what does it look like I'm doing?"  
  
"I think we need to talk."  
  
"Why do you say that?"  
  
"We're going to wake everyone up, if we haven't already. Can we go outside?"  
  
Richie stared at the infomercial for a minute. He sighed. "Fine." He led the way to the backyard.  
  
"Well?" Duncan asked after they had settled into some lawn chairs.  
  
"I have to start? You're the one who started yelling."  
  
"You're the one who was being difficult."  
  
Richie snorted. "I wasn't following orders, you mean."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"I didn't jump to it as soon as you said so."  
  
"Okay," Duncan took a breath. "We both know this isn't about turning off the light."  
  
"Fine, you tell me what this is about."  
  
"This is about you and your bruised ego."  
  
"My ego?" Richie repeated.  
  
"You run away from your family to play the tough guy for a little while..."  
  
"I'm doing what you taught me to do!"  
  
"And as soon as it got too hard, you come running home for help, calling the first person who came to mind..."  
  
"I called the only person who came to mind!" Richie snapped.  
  
"Because I'm supposed to drop everything to bail you out when you get in over your head?"  
  
"You're my friend; I thought you would help! But if this is disrupting your life then go back and I'll find someone else."  
  
"I'm here, aren't I?" Richie didn't answer. Duncan sighed. "This is stupid."  
  
"You started it," Richie mumbled.  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Um-humm."  
  
Duncan paused and thought for a minute. "Yeah, I did, didn't I?"  
  
"Did you just admit that this is your fault?" Richie asked.  
  
"I'm the reason you left, aren't I?"  
  
"So we're gonna get into this, huh?" he asked looking away.  
  
"It's what this all boils down to, you have to admit it."  
  
Richie nodded in the dark, studying a dark object in the far corner of the yard. He eventually decided it was Finny and Skye. He sighed and shifted in his seat. "I left for a lot of reasons." Duncan didn't say anything. "I guess I made you pretty mad, huh?"  
  
"Confused," was Duncan's quiet answer. "What made you leave?"  
  
"I grew up."  
  
"What does that mean?"  
  
"It means I'm not...I wasn't who you thought I was. I wasn't the little kid you wanted me to be."  
  
"I didn't want you to be a little kid."  
  
"Then why did you treat me like one?"  
  
"I didn't."  
  
"You did. You were smothering me. Every time I turned around, there you were wanting to make everything better for me. Wanting me to come to you for the answers. I had to do it on my own, Mac. I had to grow up sometime."  
  
"Rich..."  
  
"I know what you wanted, you told me. I'm sorry, but I didn't want that, I don't want that... I never really did. And especially after that whole debacle with Greg... I didn't know who I was anymore. I didn't know what I liked because I liked it and what I liked because I wanted to be liked. The only way to fix that was to go out on my own and find out."  
  
"And you couldn't let any one know where you were? Just that you were alive? Richie, I had no idea where you were for..."  
  
"Okay, I'll admit it. That was drastic. And I'm sorry. I just had to prove I could do it. If you knew where I was, I wouldn't have had the chance. I tried to go on my own and still keep in touch...it didn't work."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Missouri? Mac, I wasn't down there for five minutes before you showed up with a car! You insisted on paying for everything, sent little gifts all the time..."  
  
"You called every weekend," Duncan reminded him. "Or whenever you had a problem."  
  
"And that was half of why I left. I had to prove it to myself as much as anyone else. I had to force myself to handle things on my own. No advise, no help, no nothing. Just me."  
  
"And? Did you prove your point?"  
  
Richie nodded. "Yeah...yeah, I did. I'm my own person now. I have my own place, my own money, my own life. For once I'm not 'Richie Ryan; so-and- so's kid, friend, student, whatever'. I'm just me now."  
  
"Are you really that different?"  
  
"Enough to count," he shrugged.  
  
"So, what's changed?"  
  
"Well, I don't play basketball anymore."  
  
"Soccer. Your team won first place last year."  
  
Richie's eyes narrowed. "How did you..."  
  
"Saw the trophy in your room."  
  
"Oh, right."  
  
"What else?"  
  
He shrugged. "I don't know...just little things."  
  
"You go off on a life changing journey and all you did was switch from basketball to soccer?"  
  
"There are other things; you just put me on the spot."  
  
They sat quietly until Richie let out a huge yawn.  
  
Duncan looked at his watch. "It's nearly three. We should get to bed."  
  
"I guess so." Richie got up and opened the sliding glass door. He whistled for the dog that bounded out of the shadows followed shortly by the rabbit. "Sky and Finny," he explained to Duncan. "After you."  
  
"We'll finish this later," Duncan said as he walked into the house.  
  
Richie grinned and shook his head. "I knew that was coming."  
  
"Of course you did. But if we're going to get up at four, we'd better get some sleep."  
  
"About that. I was thinking...why don't we take them to the gym tomorrow. That way we can see what kinda of muscle Brandon has."  
  
"And coincidentally the gym opens at what time?"  
  
"Eight...but you get the place to yourself if you go in around nine thirty or ten."  
  
"Do they have room for what we need?"  
  
"I'm sure we can take over one of the classrooms or something."  
  
"For the sake of my sanity...fine," Duncan agreed secretly pleased to find a way to get a bit more sleep.  
  
"Don't wanna be with a couple cranky teenagers all day tomorrow?" Richie asked. "Don't say it," he added before Duncan could reply.  
  
"I won't," he promised as he passed Richie to get into bed. "Good night, Rich."  
  
Richie flipped off the light. "Night, Mac...oh, and if something attacks your feet in the middle of the night, that's just Finny...she likes to hunt toes." 


	7. Finny, Bacon and Whitney

Duncan woke up to an odd sensation in his left ankle. It felt like the massage from hell. He opened his eyes and looked down. At the foot of his bed was a salt and pepper rabbit. Finny, Richie had called him. Or was the dog Finny? Whatever its name was it had its front paws clinging to his toes and its back legs thumping his ankle.  
  
"Hey," Duncan hissed. "Get off!" He shook his leg, which only enticed the animal more. Finny hopped off the foot and prepared to attack again. "You think I'm playing don't you?" Duncan tried to sound angry, but the small ball of fluff was obviously under the impression it was all a game. "Come here." He grabbed the rabbit and put it in his lap. "I am trying to sleep. You should too." He put him...her...it down on the floor and rolled over. He was just drifting to sleep when it jumped back up, this time after Duncan's right foot. "Oh, no you don't." He picked up the rabbit and lay down with it in his arms. "You either bother someone else or sleep."  
  
Two hours later, Richie woke up to Skye licking his face. "Umump," he mumbled sitting up. "Fetch." He threw an imaginary ball and the dog went tearing out of the room after it.  
  
Richie rubbed his eyes and stretched. He looked at the clock; it was just past seven thirty. He lay back down and rolled onto his stomach. Skye came back in and nuzzled his hand that was hanging over the bed.  
  
"Bed," he ordered the dog. Skye whined and pawed at Richie's arm. "Fine..." He sat up again. "Fine. I'm up. You happy now? Damn, you're worse than any alarm clock." He rubbed at his face and turned to see if Duncan was awake yet.  
  
Duncan was asleep as was Finny, still tucked in his arms like a child's stuffed toy. A smile spread across his face as he rushed out of the room.  
  
"Richie?" Heather asked as he streaked into the living room in his boxers. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing...I just need my camera!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I need my camera. This is priceless."  
  
"What?"  
  
"AH-HA!!!" Richie held up his trophy which had been under a stack of junk mail in the movie cabinet. "I just gotta get a picture."  
  
He ran off again and Heather followed. "Shh..." he warned.  
  
He crept over to his bed and lay across it so he could get a good picture. Duncan didn't react to the first, but the second flash made him stir.  
  
"Go-go-go..." Richie hissed pushing her out the door and down the hall. He herded her into the office and slammed the door behind him. "I finally got him!" he cheered, waving the camera.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Do you have any idea how many embarrassing stories he has on me? Now I have solid evidence of something embarrassing on him!"  
  
Heather laughed. "What?"  
  
"You don't understand," he told her plugging in the photo printer and putting the camera on the port. "This is a once in a life time opportunity. And for us, that is a long time."  
  
"You're crazy."  
  
"Probably right, but I'm a happy crazy man." He turned to face her and display his picture. "What?"  
  
"Nothing," she assured him.  
  
"No, you're looking at me funny. What's going on?"  
  
"It's nothing."  
  
Richie paused. "It's cause I'm standing here in my underwear isn't it?"  
  
"No. I've seen you in your underwear before. It's just...I feel like nothing's changed. That we're still in college; we're still in Missouri; we're still..."  
  
"Together?" he finished.  
  
"You haven't changed at all, when I'm with you I feel like I haven't changed either."  
  
"Me, too."  
  
"I think I still love you," she whispered putting her hand to his cheek.  
  
"I know I still love you," he answered putting his hand over her's.  
  
"What do we do about it?"  
  
"You're married, we can't do anything."  
  
"What if I want to?"  
  
"What if you wannna what?"  
  
"Kiss you."  
  
"I wanna kiss you, too."  
  
Slowly he leaned in, closing his eyes after she had closed hers. Their lips were just about to meet when David called Heather's name. They jerked apart, each retreating to a different corner of the room.  
  
"In here!" Heather called going to open the door. Richie put on his best neutral face and followed her. "Richie was excited about something and I wanted to see what," she explained to her husband.  
  
"Really? Did you find out?"  
  
"A picture," Richie said holding it up. "It's a long story."  
  
David looked at the snap shot of Duncan asleep cuddling the rabbit. "Obviously."  
  
Richie smiled slightly trying to ignore the condescending tone. "Well, I better go get the boys up." He side stepped David and went into the boy's room.  
  
"What were you doing?" David asked Heather.  
  
"Printing the picture."  
  
"And you had to close the door to do that?"  
  
"When he took the picture, Duncan started to wake up... we got caught up in the moment and tried to hide."  
  
"Why was he in his underwear?"  
  
"He just got up, I guess."  
  
"Convenient." David answered just as Richie was coming out of the room.  
  
"Too bad!" Richie called over his shoulder. "We're being nice so take what you can get!" He rolled his eyes at David and Heather. "Kids." Then went to get dressed.  
  
"You're being stupid, David. He's just an old friend."  
  
"An old boyfriend."  
  
"Exactly. I married you."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"Smells great," Richie commented entering the kitchen where David and Heather were making breakfast.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Wathcha makin'?" he asked peering over David's shoulder to see the frying pan.  
  
"Omelets."  
  
"Awesome. What kind?"  
  
"A little bit of everything...peppers, mushrooms, olives, tomatoes, onion, cheese, bacon, ham..."  
  
"Oh..." Richie paused awkwardly.  
  
"What? Is something wrong?" David asked.  
  
"Well, I can't eat bacon or ham..."  
  
"Oh, that's right." Was it Richie's imagination or did this seem like a set up?  
  
"It's cool. I can make myself something else. Cheese omelet or something."  
  
"No cheese or eggs." David gestured to the empty containers. "With so many people, you know?"  
  
"Yeah, it's cool. I can do something else. Cereal or something. No worries."  
  
"What's wrong?" Duncan asked catching the very tail end of the conversation.  
  
"Nothing big. We got it covered," Richie assured him. "Just a little temporary memory loss, that's all."  
  
"Oh." Duncan noted the tone of insincere understanding and made a mental note to ask about it later. "Did you tell them about the gym?"  
  
"Gym?" Heather asked.  
  
"We thought we'd take the boys to a gym today and get a real feel for where Brandon is physically and decide how to go about training him."  
  
The boys came in and sat down. "Food, please," Anthony mumbled.  
  
"Tired are we?" Richie asked looking through the cupboards.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Aren't you glad we didn't get you up at four?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"So you gonna shut up and get some sleep tonight?"  
  
"Does this mean we aren't running today?" Brandon asked hopefully.  
  
"No running today."  
  
"We're going to the gym," Duncan supplied before the boys could get too excited.  
  
"Aw man! I'm in Hawaii and all I ever get to do is work out," Brandon grumbled.  
  
"You're not here on vacation," Richie reminded him. "You're here because you died."  
  
"Oh, right."  
  
"Exactly." Richie found the Lucky Charms, got a bowl and the milk before sitting at the table.  
  
"You don't like omelets?" Anthony asked as Heather brought over two for the boys before going back for the rest.  
  
"Can't eat pork."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"I am sorry, Richie," David said sitting down.  
  
"Hey, six years ago I would have loved it."  
  
They ate breakfast and Richie decided it was Anthony and Brandon's job to do the dishes afterward. Duncan gave him a look, but didn't say anything...until they were getting their things for the gym.  
  
"You like being in change, don't you?"  
  
"I'm just doing to them what you did to me."  
  
Duncan paused. "I suppose you are...but don't get too hard on them. I can still boss you around, you know."  
  
"And Conner can boss you," Richie shrugged.  
  
"Conner's not here."  
  
"I can call him...I'm gonna e-mail him tonight probably."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Richie stopped what he was doing and a grin slowly spread across his face. "I just have something I want to show him..."  
  
"What are you up to?" Duncan asked knowingly.  
  
"Nothin'."  
  
"I know that look...you're plotting."  
  
"So what if I am? Are you going to stop me?"  
  
"I may not be able to stop you...but I can still make your life hell."  
  
"Bring it on."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"Okay, everyone out." Richie pulled the light blue wood paneled station wagon to a stop in front of Carson's Gym and Martial Arts Dojo. Heather and David had taken the jeep to look around town and do a bit of sight seeing while Duncan and Richie started Brandon's training.  
  
"This is it?" Duncan asked looking at the large gym. "Isn't it a little...in the open?"  
  
"I suppose. But this is Hawaii, people using swords and staffs and knifes in a work out is completely normal. You saw the show last night. It's what we do here." They got the practice gear Duncan and Anthony had brought along with what Richie had out of the trunk of the car. "Don't think we're going to go easy on you," he warned Brandon. "The first workout is one of the hardest."  
  
"Yeah," Anthony agreed. "Mac can be a real drill sergeant while he pushes you to your limits." "My first workout as an immortal he nearly killed me," Richie said. "But you'll be okay. I won't let him kill you. Your sister would kill me."  
  
As they made their way across the parking lot, all four immortals stopped as another approached. Duncan and Richie shared a look.  
  
"C'mon you two." Richie led Anthony and Brandon to the side walk. "Go inside and tell whoever's behind the desk you're with Rick Noel and he was wondering if we could have a class room."  
  
"Who's Rick?" Brandon asked.  
  
"Me. No move it...and take this." He handed them the two bamboo swords he was holding.  
  
Richie made it back to Duncan as the other immortal was approaching him.  
  
"Richie..."  
  
"What?" he snapped.  
  
Duncan didn't answer; instead he turned his attention to the stranger.  
  
"I'm Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod."  
  
"Whitney Baker of the Mississippi Bakers."  
  
"Never heard of 'em," Richie commented snidely. "I'm Richie Ryan."  
  
"Never heard of you. What do you want?"  
  
"Nothing. What about you?"  
  
"I'm on vacation with my family. I don't want trouble."  
  
"Good. Then we have no further business."  
  
"I suppose not."  
  
"And if we see you around, I assume you'll still want no trouble?"  
  
"That's right."  
  
"Fine with us." Richie's hard tone softened back to his usual easy self. "Enjoy your stay in paradise."  
  
Whitney Baker paused awkwardly, thrown off by the sudden change of mood. "Um, thank you..."  
  
"Aloha." Richie turned and headed back for the gym. Duncan gave Baker a nod and turned to follow.  
  
When he got to the door, Richie was holding it open for him. They shared a glance as Duncan walked past. Nothing else of the incident was said. 


	8. The Bad Move

"Can you do that?" Brandon asked Anthony as they watched Duncan and Richie spar.  
  
"I'm not that good," he admitted.  
  
"Good, neither am I."  
  
Duncan panted as Richie pushed him across the floor in a steady, controlled series of attacks.  
  
"Getting winded?" Richie asked with a cocky grin.  
  
"You wish, laddie." Duncan countered and started to force Richie into the offensive.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"It's beautiful," Heather breathed as she and David stopped by the waterfall overlook.  
  
"It is," he agreed, putting his arms around her. "I want to apologize for my behavior earlier today," he said.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"For being so suspicious of you and Richie. You're old friends. You're close. I shouldn't be jealous of that."  
  
"You're jealous?"  
  
"I was. But I'm not any more. It's childish for me to be," he admitted.  
  
"Just because he's an old boyfriend..."  
  
"And he's still as good looking as when you dumped him," David added. "What? I heard you say that the other day. I'm secure enough in my manliness to say it myself. He's obviously physically fit, he's athletic, he's rich..."  
  
"Rich?"  
  
"You saw the way he didn't even blink at a hundred dollar dinner bill. Fifty dollars for pizza? The kid is loaded."  
  
"He's a man. He's older than we are."  
  
"He's got money and looks, that's reason enough to be worried he may try to seduce my wife."  
  
"He's not trying to seduce me," Heather insisted.  
  
"And that is why I'm going to keep my mouth shut. I trust you and if you trust him, so do I."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"They've been at it for ever," Anthony sighed. "I wish one of them would just throw the match already."  
  
"It's not so cool to watch any more," Brandon agreed.  
  
"I'm bored."  
  
"Me, too."  
  
"Let's go." The two got up and circumnavigated the battle raging between the older immortals.  
  
"Sit," Duncan ordered seeing the two try to sneak away out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"You too, Brandon. We're almost done," Richie added, deflecting a blow for his knees.  
  
"We really should stop, Rich," Duncan agreed.  
  
"We've bored our audience."  
  
"Well, if you want to stop that's fine with me."  
  
"Okay. I'm done." Duncan stopped an attack and let his sword down.  
  
Richie swung his rapier up and stopped it just at Duncan's neck. "You forfeit, I win."  
  
"Not if that's how you're going to play this." Duncan pushed Richie away and they started all over again.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"I wish we could live here," Heather sighed looking out over the ocean. "I don't want to leave."  
  
"It wouldn't be as special if we lived here. We'd be jaded to it all in a matter of weeks."  
  
"Probably."  
  
"Where do you want to go next? We have two hours until we need to meet everyone."  
  
"Let's get something to eat."  
  
"We could go back to the house and I could make something," David suggested.  
  
"I want to eat out."  
  
"Fine," David agreed, taking her hand. "Then let's get back up to the car and drive until we find a place that looks good."  
  
"Sounds perfect."  
  
They started up the steep stone steps through the rainforest and up to the parking lot where Richie's jeep waited for them. Heather felt a slight chill run up her spine as he gently helped her into her seat and pecked her cheek before closing her door.  
  
"Where to, madam?" he asked in a horrible English accent.  
  
Heather smiled and giggled. "You're an idiot."  
  
David shrugged. "What are you going to do about it?"  
  
"I'm not sure I want to."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"Finally," Brandon groaned as Richie hit his knees.  
  
"About bloody time," Anthony agreed.  
  
"Lucky shot," Richie panted, falling into a sitting position.  
  
"Pretty much," Duncan agreed patting him on the back. "You have some great moves."  
  
"I learned from the best."  
  
"You didn't learn that attack combination from me," he insisted giving Richie a hand up.  
  
"Who said anything about you?" Richie asked with a grin.  
  
Brandon and Anthony tried to stifle their laughter. Anthony quickly quieted with one glance from Duncan. A slap in the ribs from Anthony quieted Brandon.  
  
"Your turn," Duncan said heaving both boys to their feet. "Do you still take karate?" he asked Brandon.  
  
"Yeah. Black belt; I teach...taught."  
  
"Good, you two are going to face off," Duncan continued, not missing Richie's beaming face.  
  
"Me and Anthony?" Brandon asked.  
  
"Yes." He gestured the teens to the middle of the floor. "First to five?" he asked Richie.  
  
"Five works," Richie nodded.  
  
"Okay." Duncan turned to the teens. "Ready... set... fight!"  
  
Duncan and Richie stepped back to watch the match.  
  
"No bad at all," Duncan commented as Brandon blocked a side kick. "He has good moves."  
  
Richie nodded as he watched the two teens. "He's going to be easy to teach...speaking of..."  
  
"We'll figure something out, Rich. In the mean time, we both need to get him ready."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Heather snuggled into David's arm as they rode the boat from the submarine they had just ridden. It was breezy out and a little cool, his warm chest felt good. He buried his nose in her hair and she giggled.  
  
"Wonder what Richie has planned for us tonight?" he asked.  
  
"I'm not sure. I guess we'll find out when we all meet back at the house."  
  
"Do we have to? Why don't we call and leave a message saying we'll be back tomorrow night. We passed a nice looking bed and breakfast on the way into town..."  
  
Heather smiled and turned so she could see him. "Tempting..."  
  
He kissed her nose. "Tempting enough for you to agree to it?"  
  
Heather thought for a minute. "Tempting enough to keep it in mind for another night. But I want to see how Brandon's training went."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"You know something, kid?" Richie asked, throwing a sweaty arm around Brandon's shoulders. "I don't think you're going to be a half bad swordsman."  
  
"I got my butt kicked."  
  
"Ah, but not as bad as it might have been. I, for one, did better..."  
  
"Sure you did," Duncan teased, swatting Richie upside the head. "He was horrible."  
  
"I was going to say...not by much."  
  
"Sure you were."  
  
"Can I finish?"  
  
"Oh, by all means."  
  
"You'll do fine. You don't have anything to worry about."  
  
"It's nice to have someone my own age to spar with, too," Anthony cut in. "Finally someone who's not a foot taller and a thousand years older."  
  
Brandon laughed. "Glad to help."  
  
"Okay, guys, in the car. We're not done for the day."  
  
"No... you're as bad as MacLeod," Anthony whined getting into the backseat.  
  
Richie smiled as he started the car. "I can see why you'd say that, but we're going to do something only a handful of people have ever done."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Hike up Kilauea."  
  
"What's Kilauea?" Brandon asked.  
  
"A volcano," Anthony told him.  
  
"Yeah. An active volcano. It's still erupting."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah. That's why it's better to hike up late afternoon, by the time you're done the sun is down and you can see the lava glowing."  
  
"That sounds cool," both boys agreed.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
After packing a picnic basket and changing into volcano hiking appropriate clothes they all piled into the station wagon and headed up the winding road toward Kilauea.  
  
"It sure gets cold here," Heather commented snuggling into David in the back seat.  
  
"Wait till the sun goes down," Richie warned. "It's not all sunshine and bikinis around here."  
  
"But what about the brochures and travel guides?"  
  
"They just leave the 'Oh, yeah, it gets cold here, too' stuff out."  
  
They drove a few more miles with only the quiet banter of the boys in the third row seat to keep the silence at bay. Out of reflex, Richie reached over and turned on the radio. He flipped around for a while before landing on the oldies station. In a matter of minutes, everyone was singing along under their breath.  
  
"Don't take money, don't take fame. Don't need no credit card to ride this train," they sang along with Huey Lewis and the News.  
  
Duncan looked in the back seat at Heather and David. They looked very comfortable and content cuddled together in the back seat. They fit together well. And though David and been a jealous, petty husband that morning, he seemed like a right enough sort of fellow. He had a lot to face right now. Not only did his nephew recently die, he was now face to face with the man who had proposed to his wife after dating her for four years. A man who was still young and vibrant, exuberant and energetic despite being older than both David and Heather. A man who had money to spare, lived in paradise, was solving all their problems and still had time to be cute and charming. Sure, he had been rather childish that morning, but Duncan was pretty sure Richie's nineteen year old hormones had started it anyway.  
  
Once they entered the park, singing Surfin' USA, they pulled over for a snack before they went off for the hike.  
  
"This is it?" Brandon asked. "Looks like a big hill."  
  
"Wait until the sun goes down and you're thirty feet away from hot lava," Richie told him with a grin.  
  
"You can really get that close?" Anthony asked.  
  
"There's no path to follow. You just start walking up. But you have to be really careful, cause people get seriously hurt."  
  
"Is this dangerous?" Heather asked.  
  
"Not if you follow the rules. Wear jeans and sneakers," he gestured to everyone's proper attire. "Carry plenty of water, flashlights, and batteries" then to the bag in the trunk. "We'll be fine." She still didn't look convinced. "I've been up and down Kilauea more times than I can count, nothing has ever happened to me."  
  
"I don't think I'm really comfortable with this..." Heather hedged.  
  
"If you're not...If anyone's not. I just thought it would be fun. We don't have to do this."  
  
"No, this is cool!" Anthony protested, quieting as soon as Duncan gave him a stern look. Brandon saw the look and didn't say anything.  
  
"Why don't you take the boys up and I'll stay down here with Heather," David offered.  
  
"If that's okay with you guys," Richie shrugged. "Or if you want to go, I'll stay with Heather. It's not a real tour guide expedition, you just start up and pay attention to where you step."  
  
"It does sound interesting..."  
  
"I've done it a thousand times; I don't mind staying on the ground. There's all sorts of stuff, the visitors center has some cool movies they play, the petroglyphics in the rock... all sorts of cool stuff that the boys would care less about."  
  
"If you want to go, David, go. I just don't like the idea of putting my safety on the line to bake like a human potato."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"I'm positive. I'll let Richie bore me and pretend to be interested."  
  
David smiled. "Okay. I guess we're taking you up on your offer," he told Richie.  
  
"Cool, plus this way we can drop you off at the foot of the path and pick you up there when you get down," Richie added. "It would be a hike to start the hike otherwise."  
  
"Perfect."  
  
They all piled back into the car and drove through the park to where the road turned into a sidewalk.  
  
"Just go up that walk until you see a park ranger by a picnic table and that's where you go up," Richie instructed as the men got out of the car. "Don't forget to drink plenty of water," he added for the sake of the boys. "And watch where you step. I had a friend take home a nasty scar on his elbow because he was a big fat idiot."  
  
Anthony and Brandon rolled their eyes and started off down the path with Duncan and David calling after them to slow down and wait for them.  
  
Richie turned the wagon around and headed back toward the visitors center. "I dunno, I like this stuff," he semi-apologized as they went in. "But I am a confessed nerd."  
  
"I'm sure it's all interesting."  
  
"You're humoring me, aren't you?"  
  
"Let me give it a try first."  
  
Suddenly Heather found herself swept back into the time warp where she was a young girl again with her whole life ahead of her instead of a woman with a large chunk of her life behind her and even less to look forward to. She got a chance to see what could have been, had she not run the second he confided a huge secret in her.  
  
The moment she had heard those words "There's something very important I have to tell you..." she had thought something was wrong, but fixable. But when he told her "I'm immortal. I can't die. I've been like this since I was 19...and I can't let you say yes unless you know what you're getting yourself into..." she had run away scared.  
  
"Let's go for a walk," she suggested. "Take in the scenery."  
  
"Sure."  
  
They went to a foot path over the dried lava flows.  
  
"Oh, see?" Richie pointed at an area of smooth black rock. "That's a petroglyph. See that funny picture?"  
  
"What does it mean?"  
  
"I have no clue at all. They kinda remind me of my kindergarten drawings, though."  
  
Heather smiled. "It looks like a man...dancing, maybe?"  
  
"Hula." Richie swayed his hips and hummed a little tune. "I would draw a man dancing in still cooling lava if I were an ancient Polynesian."  
  
"But why?"  
  
"Because dancing men are sexy." He continued swaying and added his hands to his dance. "Women love us. We are irresistible!"  
  
"You're strange, that's what you are," she giggled.  
  
"You didn't say that at your cousin's wedding..." he teased. "I do believe you were quite impressed."  
  
"Did I say that?" she asked mimicking his movements.  
  
"Yes. I remember it quite clearly." He took her in his arms. "We were dancing like this..." He started them in a slow waltz. "And your great aunt nosey lady had just interrogated me for the twelve billionth time about my intentions with her great niece. And you said that you were very impressed. You never thought a basketball player would be able to dance."  
  
"Did I?" she asked looking up at him.  
  
"You did." He made the mistake of looking her in the eye. She had beautiful green eyes. He felt it coming, that rush of teenagerness in his blood stream.  
  
"I remember now... I compared you to James Bond. You imitated Sean Connery for three songs after that."  
  
"Uh-huh." he answered absentmindedly.  
  
"Richie?" They had stopped dancing, but he hadn't let her go.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"What are you thinking?"  
  
"That I should let you go."  
  
"You should."  
  
"Yeah, I really should."  
  
They stood in silence looking at each other then Richie slowly leaned in and they kissed. 


	9. Confessions of a notsoteenage Drama King

AN: I need to mention something that was brought to my attention two chaps ago. Keeping with a kosher diet Richie would not be able to eat Lucky Charms as there is something in the marshmallows which makes it non kosher. (Stefanie told me what it was but I am blanking, I think it was some sort of gelatin.) So for the sake of being lazy we will hereby pretend that he had a nice bowl of corn flaks.  
  
Also to the reviewer Lamarquise. I'm sorry if the events of the last chapter offended you as it was never intended as any sort of religious commentary. Yes, Richie is Jewish. Yes, he is kosher. And yes, he does go to Temple (though I don't think it has been or will be actually written in this particular fic). But he is still Richie. The same Richie who in season two (title ep escapes me) dated a married woman who was a friend of Tessa's and was convinced that she would leave her husband for him. As this story is canon up until The Darkness, that particular ep does need to be taken into account. Again, I apologize for any offence I may have cause and hope that Richie's lack of discretion does not deter you from reading and reviewing the rest of the fic.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
After a few seconds Heather pulled away. Before Richie could say anything, she slapped him.  
  
His hand went up to touch the stinging cheek. "What was that for?"  
  
"You kissed me!"  
  
"I thought you wanted me to," he sputtered. "You sure seemed okay with it a second ago."  
  
"I'm a married woman!"  
  
"You didn't seem so concerned about that this morning."  
  
"Richie...I'm married. You can't go around kissing married women."  
  
"What happens when they encourage it?"  
  
"I did not encourage this!"  
  
"You did, too!"  
  
"Richie, I am married and I am in love with my husband. Not you."  
  
"That's not what you said this morning."  
  
"I changed my mind."  
  
"How was I supposed to know?"  
  
"Richie, this is wrong."  
  
"You could have said that before I kissed you."  
  
"I didn't know you were going to."  
  
"You wanted to this morning."  
  
"That was different."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Richie... I can't do this. I have to choose. I choose David."  
  
"You couldn't have said something?"  
  
"Richie, I'm sorry."  
  
"You made me feel like idiot."  
  
"Richie..."  
  
"A complete and total looser."  
  
"I..."  
  
"This is ridiculous. How can you be so enamored with me one second and slapping me the next?"  
  
"Because I didn't know what I wanted then... I do now. I want David."  
  
"And you had to use me to figure that out?"  
  
"Richie, I'm sorry. I handled this the wrong way. I should have never even thought about this. I was happily married until I came here, then..."  
  
"Don't blame this on me."  
  
"I'm not. I'm just saying... I don't know what I was thinking before. But it was wrong. We can't do this any more."  
  
"Well, what do we do now?" Richie demanded. "It was okay when we just talked about it... What are we gonna do?"  
  
"Richie..."  
  
Richie didn't want to get into an argument in public. He glanced at his watch. "We better go get everybody." He started off to the car and didn't wait to see if she was following.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Duncan could tell that something was wrong. Richie was acting odd. It wasn't an obvious odd, but an odd you would notice if you had known him as long as he had. They were back in the car driving out of the park on their way to an all night drive thru to get the boys something to eat. They were all in the same seats as before and the boys were chattering excitedly about how close they had gotten to the lava and what the experience was like, Heather was paying special attention to what they said since she had skipped out on the hike. David was nearly as excited as the boys and even showed off the few lava rocks he had smuggled down the volcano in Richie's backpack. Duncan had been impressed himself because, though he would never admit it, it was something he had never done before. If he mentioned that to Richie, though, he would never let him live it down.  
  
Richie, for his part was half heartedly listening and only responding when something was directed directly at him. He hadn't turned the radio on, either. He was being quiet and reflective. That was never a good sign. He nearly ordered himself a cheeseburger in the drive thru, and even though everyone was eating and the car smelt of fast food his chicken nuggets remained untouched in the bag sitting between him and Duncan.  
  
"What's wrong?" Duncan asked knowingly as they got ready for bed forty five minutes later.  
  
"Nothin'," Richie answered sliding an old beat-up soccer jersey over his head.  
  
"You're lying."  
  
"Mac, leave me alone."  
  
"Something happened with you and Heather, didn't it?" Duncan asked sitting on his bed.  
  
"Why do you say that?"  
  
"Because you were fine until the ride home."  
  
Richie took a deep breath. "It's nothing."  
  
"You'll feel better if you just tell someone."  
  
"I'm not in the mood for the lecture the truth is gonna get me."  
  
"What did you do?" Duncan's curiosity was killing him.  
  
Richie took another deep breath and looked Duncan in the eye. "Promise not to yell and lecture?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"I kissed Heather."  
  
Duncan took a second to collect himself before he responded. "What made you do that?"  
  
"I dunno," he admitted. "It just kinda happened."  
  
"Richie, that's not good."  
  
"I know."  
  
"What does Heather think?"  
  
"She slapped me."  
  
"You deserved it."  
  
"Mac! I'm not looking for a lecture here! You asked; I told you!" Richie snapped. "Besides, weren't there two people involved? It was pretty obvious what I was thinking and she sure didn't say no!"  
  
Duncan took a deep breath, not wanting to point fingers. "What does David think?"  
  
"You don't think she's gonna tell him, do you?"  
  
"Someone should."  
  
"Oh, that'll go over well."  
  
"Richie, I'm not going to tell you what to do," Duncan started. "But I think it would be a good idea if you came clean with him."  
  
Richie sighed. "I dunno..."  
  
"Just my opinion."  
  
"I think I'm gonna make some tea and sit out back. I'll see you later."  
  
"Good night."  
  
"Night."  
  
Richie went out into the kitchen where David was sitting at the table looking out into the back yard.  
  
"Um... hey," Richie mumbled.  
  
"Hey."  
  
"I was gonna make some tea... want some?"  
  
"What kind?"  
  
"I dunno... got all kinds."  
  
"Sure why not?"  
  
Richie put some water on to boil and pulled out the big mason jar full of various tea bags. "We're real fancy around here."  
  
"So I've noticed."  
  
David picked his way through the jar eventually deciding on jasmine. Richie dumped the contents onto the counter and found orange spice. They stood in silence after Richie got down a couple coffee mugs waiting for the kettle to whistle. When it did, Richie took it off the burner, poured the water and offered David a mug and spoon. They seeped and stirred their tea. Then Richie silently got down the sugar and honey from the cabinets and cream from the refrigerator. Once they both deemed their tea ready to drink, Richie got some cookies out of the pantry and put them on a plate. Then, still in silence, Richie led the way onto the back porch so they could sit at the patio table.  
  
They sipped and munched in silence eventually being found by Skye and the neighbor's dog who both wanted a little attention.  
  
"Are you feeling alright?" David asked quietly breaking their long silence.  
  
"Yeah, why?"  
  
"You just didn't eat much tonight."  
  
"Got a lot on my mind... who am I gonna find to teach Brandon and all that."  
  
"You were depending on Duncan?"  
  
"Yeah. Didn't occur to me he'd have a student already."  
  
"Do you have any other people in mind?"  
  
"I'll think of someone."  
  
Richie picked up a slightly deflated soccer ball and tossed it across the yard for the dogs to chase after.  
  
"Do you know a lot of people like you?"  
  
"Immortals, you mean?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Richie shrugged. "I know a few. Most just aren't the student type. I mean, Mac's the only person I thought of when I heard about Brandon. But don't worry. We'll take care of him." The neighbor's dog brought the ball back and he threw it again.  
  
More silence. "So...I gather you and Heather were pretty serious back in college," David ventured.  
  
"Yeah, we were."  
  
"You were immortal then?"  
  
"Since I was 18."  
  
"Wow...I still can't believe it."  
  
"Believe what?"  
  
"You're older than I am... you look like you could be Brandon's twin."  
  
"Mac's almost 450." He threw the ball again.  
  
"I know. It's just strange. Hard to take in."  
  
"I guess it is."  
  
"Do you tell people a lot?"  
  
"That's I'm immortal? Hell, no."  
  
"How many people have you told?"  
  
"Just Heather. And I guess you kinda count. So kinda two."  
  
"That's it?"  
  
"Nothing something we tend to spread around." He took the ball from the now energetic and bouncing pair of dogs. "You do know..."  
  
"To keep my mouth shut? Yeah." He put his mug on the table. "I'm sorry... about this morning. It was childish of me..."  
  
"Hey, you're talking to the king of immaturity, here. Don't worry about it," Richie assured him. "We all do stupid things when it comes to beautiful women." He teased the dogs by tossing the ball in the air and catching it before they could.  
  
"But still. I was petty and jealous, and I just want to say I'm sorry."  
  
"Thanks. Oops!"  
  
The ball he was tossing was intercepted by an over-excited Skye who landed in Richie's lap. He reached to catch the ball as it came back down, but he and David's hands collided and the ball fell to the table, knocking the mugs and plate off. Richie shoved the dog off his lap and tried the catch the plate but only succeeded in catching a few shards of glass instead.  
  
"Damn it!" he hissed pulling his hand back.  
  
"Let me help," David said taking Richie's bleeding hand.  
  
"I just need to get the glass out and I'll be fine," Richie said trying to pull his hand away.  
  
"It's a pretty big shard."  
  
"I'll heal."  
  
"Just a sec...there." David pulled out a chunk of glass. "I think that's it."  
  
"Nope, there's more. You'd know if there wasn't."  
  
"I don't see any..."  
  
"It'd be healing if there wasn't anything. There has to be something."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah. Hang on." He got up and stood under the porch light. He started squeezing the cut on his palm trying to get whatever was impeding the healing out. He squeezed until a little flash of his quickening showed up. "You wanna see?" he offered suddenly sticking his finger into the offending wound to stop the healing. "It's pretty cool."  
  
David wondered over and Richie held out his hand so he could watch. The quickening flickered to and fro across his hand until the cut and blood were gone.  
  
"Wow." David's fingers instinctively went to prod the now healed surface. "Oh, sorry." He quickly pulled his hand away form Richie's. "I bet you hate that."  
  
Richie smirked. "Hey, when I first saw Mac heal, I just stuck my hand in."  
  
"That lightning stuff?"  
  
"Yeah. It shot me clear across the room and into a wall. I never tried to touch it after that." He chuckled. "Sometimes I just have to learn the hard way."  
  
David smiled at him. "I've done that a few times, myself."  
  
"Uh, David... there's something I have to tell you."  
  
David's grinning face turned serious. "What?"  
  
"You remember when you were a teenager?"  
  
David cracked a smile. "Yeah."  
  
"You did a lot of stupid things, right?"  
  
He laughed. "I can think of a few."  
  
"Me, too... especially when it came to girls."  
  
"I think that's a given..."  
  
"Well, you know how when an immortal dies their body stops aging?"  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"Well, that includes hormones and stuff."  
  
"What are you getting at Richie?"  
  
Richie paused and gathered his courage. "I... well, that is, see... Mac always used to joke about how I always thought with the wrong head...when it came to certain situations..." He forced a smile that David did not return. "And I'll admit, he was right...he is right...David, I did something really stupid today."  
  
"What did you do?"  
  
"...I kissed Heather."

AN: Richie's first experience with a quickening (the being shot across the room thing) was taken with permission from Richiefic's "I Never Liked Art In High School" ch 7


	10. Duh!

Shannon K: Thanks for the criticisms. Hopefully this chapter will help answer your questions. And to everyone else, if you have any questions about how things are going or comments about this story please let me know.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie braced himself for the inevitable physical violence that was coming his way. David took a deep breath and instinctively Richie flinched back.  
  
"This morning?" David's tone was calm and even. Richie was still braced for impact as he slowly shook his head. "Tonight?" He nodded. David stepped back and sighed.  
  
Richie took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. We shouldn't have done it."  
  
"I'll say. How the hell could you do that?" David demanded. "I trusted you two!"  
  
"I know you did..."  
  
"I knew this was a bad idea."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I appreciate what you've tried to do, but we're leaving." David side stepped Richie and went into the house.  
  
"Who do you mean by 'we'?" Richie asked following him.  
  
"We... Heather, Brandon and I."  
  
"Wait." He grabbed his arm. "I understand why you want to go and why you want to take Heather with you. I'm not gonna stop you. But Brandon has to stay." David stopped and looked from Richie's hand on his arm to Richie's face. Richie held his ground. "Look, I've been square with you from day one here."  
  
"You kissed my wife!"  
  
"And I told you, didn't I? And I'm sorry. We were wrong. But taking Brandon from here would be wrong, too."  
  
"I've made my decision."  
  
"And I've made mine. I told Brandon he was under my protection the first night he was here at dinner. That means that if you try and take him, it's my job to keep him here."  
  
"Are you threatening me?"  
  
"I'm warning you."  
  
The light flipped on. Both men turned to see Heather standing at the bottom of the stairs. "What's going on?" Richie felt David stiffen under his hand. Heather looked from David to Richie and back. "David?"  
  
Richie released his grasp and David stalked over to where Heather was. He raised his left hand. "What does this ring mean to you?"  
  
Heather paused and looked at Richie. "I told him," he said.  
  
"David, it was a mistake. It didn't mean anything."  
  
"Then why wouldn't you tell me?"  
  
"I didn't think it was necessary," she said, casting Richie a stern look. "It was a mistake that shouldn't have been made. But it was; it happened, now we move on."  
  
"I think you should go get changed," David told her. "We're leaving."  
  
"Now? It's the middle of the night?"  
  
"Yes, now. We're going to pack and go to a hotel."  
  
"David, you're being ridiculous."  
  
"Let's put it this way," David suggested. "I'm packing and leaving tonight; either you're with me and we work this out or you're not and we don't."  
  
"David, I love you. I married you."  
  
"Then leave with me."  
  
"What about Brandon?" Heather pleaded. "He's my brother; I can't just leave him."  
  
"It's gonna happen anyway," Richie spoke up.  
  
"Stay out of it," David snapped.  
  
"Just trying to help."  
  
"You're not."  
  
"What's going on?" Brandon asked appearing at the top of the stairs.  
  
"Go back to bed," the three adults chorused.  
  
"Why are you guys fighting?"  
  
"Brandon!" Richie snapped. "Bed, go, now!"  
  
Brandon didn't move, but Duncan appeared behind him and pulled him back to his room.  
  
"Heather," David started as calmly as he could. "I am willing to work this out. But I'm not willing to stay here one more night."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Ten minutes later, Richie let himself into Brandon and Anthony's room.  
  
"What's going on?" Brandon demanded.  
  
"You need to go say good-bye to Heather and David," Richie told him. "Their taxi is on the way."  
  
"Where are they going?"  
  
"Talk to them, okay?" Richie wasn't sure what all David and Heather wanted Brandon to know of the situation, so left the explaining to them.  
  
Brandon cast him an odd look, then left to find David and Heather.  
  
"What happened?" Anthony asked. "You look angry."  
  
"It's none of your business," Richie said. "Just go to sleep." With that he turned and left as well.  
  
Duncan found him back out in the backyard holding Finny and leaning against the tree a little while later.  
  
"They're leaving," he told him.  
  
"I heard the cab pull up," Richie answered not turning to face him.  
  
"Aren't you going to say goodbye?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Richie..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You can't hide out here."  
  
"Says who?"  
  
Duncan sighed. "Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Don't be cute."  
  
"I'm not. I'm serious; there's nothing to talk about."  
  
Duncan moved and positioned himself in front of his former student. "Try again."  
  
"Mac. Back off."  
  
"Why? So you can sit here and pout?"  
  
"I'm not pouting."  
  
"Fine. So you can sit here and dwell on this until you get so worked up, you—"  
  
"Mac! I'm not pouting, I'm not dwelling, I'm being antisocial. Now get lost!"  
  
"Richie..."  
  
"Here." Richie shoved Finny into Mac's arms. "I'm going out for a while."  
  
"Richie, no."  
  
"Leave me alone, MacLeod," Richie groaned over his shoulder as he walked out the back gate.  
  
Duncan waited for a second then followed, dropping the rabbit on a lawn chair on his way past. "Richie... Richie, stop."  
  
Richie turned and glared at the older immortal. "What is your deal?"  
  
"I'm trying to keep you from going off and doing something stupid."  
  
"What makes you think I'm doing anything stupid?"  
  
"Because I know you."  
  
"Do you, Mac?"  
  
"Go inside," Duncan told him.  
  
Richie's eyes narrowed. "Is that an order?"  
  
"It can be."  
  
Then a familiar look crossed the younger immortal's face. He raised his eyebrows, smirked and cocked his head to the left. "Don't wait up."  
  
He turned, got in his car and backed out of the driveway, Duncan staring after him in surprise.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie pulled into one of the many empty parking spaces in the employee parking lot at The Village. He sat in the Jeep for a minute before getting out and heading to the trainer's office. He went straight to the locker room, opened his locker and changed into his red, Hawaiian print swimming trunks.  
  
"Who's in here?" a voice asked from the locker room door.  
  
"It's just me, Kyle," Richie called to the trainer on overnight duty. "Came to spend some quality time with T.G."  
  
Kyle held the door open for him as he passed. "Hey, Rick. I hear you have family in town."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"So what are you doing out here?"  
  
Richie shrugged. "I never said my family and I get along well."  
  
Kyle smiled. "I hear that. Well, have fun. Maybe I can bring Niko [nee- koh] out later."  
  
"Maybe."  
  
Richie went to the pen and eased his way into the water. It was a little chilly, but he got used to it quickly. The pod of dolphins came over to see who their visitor was.  
  
"Hey, guys," he said softly patting each in turn. "Long time no see, eh?"  
  
Once it was figured out that Richie had no fish, the older dolphins lost interest and swam away.  
  
"Hey, Tough Guy," Richie greeted patting T.G. on the side affectionately. "I've missed hanging out with you, man. Things have gotten pretty crazy back at the house." He held onto the dolphin's dorsal fin and signaled him to swim to the partition that separated the holding pin from the lagoon so they would have more room to swim around. He opened the gate and gestured T.G. out before swimming out himself and closing the gate behind himself.  
  
"How you doing?" he asked swimming over to the dolphin and leap frogging over him in the water. T.G. whistled nudged Richie in the arm with his beak. "What?" Richie asked innocently swimming over to the beach to get a snorkel and mask out of the shelter.  
  
"You ready?" he asked getting back into the water. He signaled T.G. to do a few tricks: blow bubbles, roll over, speak, and then to swim out to the deep water and do a flip. "Oh, good boy," he rubbed the dolphin's back and slapped him a few times. He put on his mask, tested it for leaks then put his mouth around the snorkel, before grabbing T.G.'s dorsal fin again and letting him drag him out into the deep water. He put his face in the water and watched the fish and other small sea creatures swim beneath him.  
  
The longer he stayed out in the water wrestling, playing and swimming with T.G. the more relaxed he got. He used the activity as an outlet for his nervous energy and after a little over an hour felt suitable for human contact. He got a walky-talky out of the shelter and radioed Kyle if he wanted to bring Niko out.  
  
The two laughed and joked as they raced their dolphins and started up a game of tag and then catch.  
  
"I wonder what time it is?" Richie asked, squinting at the clock on the shelter.  
  
"Almost three," Kyle answered looking at this waterproof watch.  
  
"I better start heading back."  
  
Kyle put up the masks and snorkels while Richie put the dolphins back in the pin for the night.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"Where have you been?" Duncan demanded as Richie walked into the house.  
  
"Work."  
  
"Work?"  
  
"Yeah, work. Thought I went to a bar?"  
  
Duncan didn't answer.  
  
"Look, Mac. I'm sorry if you were worried or whatever, but I'm a big boy now. I can take care of myself."  
  
"You don't act like it."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Running out of here like that? That was the adult thing to do?"  
  
"Mac, I needed space. You wouldn't back off."  
  
"I was worried about you."  
  
"There's nothing to worry about."  
  
"That doesn't mean I'm not going to."  
  
"Then there's nothing I can do, is there?"  
  
Duncan sighed. "Why does this always happen?" He sat back down on the couch.  
  
Richie paused, not quite sure what to say. "What?"  
  
"Since when does every conversation we have turn into a fight?"  
  
Richie couldn't help but quirk a grin. "Since always. It's what we do best."  
  
Duncan smiled back. "Rich, this is stupid."  
  
"What is?"  
  
"I just didn't want you to go out and do something rash."  
  
"I told you I wasn't going to. You didn't listen."  
  
"No. I didn't," he admitted. "I just don't know how to react to you anymore."  
  
"Well, I'm not Anthony or Brandon for starters."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You can't go throwing orders at me all the time. I'm too old for that now."  
  
"You usually listen," Duncan said as if that justified it.  
  
"Habit. Mac, I know how the tradition goes. 'To show your teacher respect you always treat them as if you are still the student' Blah, blah, blah... but Mac, that doesn't mean you can treat me like a kid." Duncan didn't answer. "You didn't even try to boss me around this much when I was your student."  
  
"I guess I never noticed. I'm just used to being in charge."  
  
"You're gonna have to get used to not being in charge."  
  
"I guess."  
  
"Maybe we can start by figuring out what we're going to do about Brandon," Richie suggested, flopping down into the over stuffed chair angled toward the couch.  
  
"Why don't you take him?" Duncan started. "You're great with him."  
  
Richie sighed. "I thought about it. But...I don't think I'm ready. And besides, how am I going to juggle work, school and explaining having a kid shadowing me all the time?"  
  
"He can enroll at your school."  
  
"I'm leaving in a year."  
  
"Can't you stay until he graduates?"  
  
"Mac, I started here as a seventeen year old. People are already telling me I'm lucky I look so young."  
  
"It's only been three years," Duncan commented. "How can anyone notice already?"  
  
Richie shrugged. "Welcome to my world. And besides, I don't think I'm ready to be a teacher yet."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah. I still feel like I'm learning."  
  
"Because I had a favor to ask of you."  
  
Richie raised his eyebrows. "What?"  
  
"I was hoping that...if anything should happen to me...you'd take Anthony."  
  
"Like be your second?" Richie joked in a New York gangster accent.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Richie smirk faded. "Really?"  
  
"I think you're ready."  
  
"Mac... I dunno...I mean, that's a really big responsibility..."  
  
"No more than what you're doing for Brandon."  
  
"So, if you die, you want me to finish training him?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Richie thought about it. "Do you always do that?"  
  
"What? Have someone agree to take your student?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Of course. If you care enough to take on a student you care enough about them to be ready for all situations."  
  
"Did you have someone for me?"  
  
"Yes. Conner was going to take you."  
  
"That's why you sent me to New York."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Suddenly both immortals, who had been studying various objects in the room, looked at each other with bright smiles.  
  
"I can't believe we didn't think about him!" Richie laughed. "Conner can take Brandon." 


	11. Just like old times

Richie woke up with a stretch and a groan. Between the incident with Heather, the fight with David, then Duncan, swimming for three hours and then staying up until five thirty talking to Duncan, it had been a long night.  
  
"Morning," Duncan greeted him, coming into the room and toweling off his hair.  
  
"What time is it?" Richie asked not bothering to look at the clock himself.  
  
"Nine fifteen."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"I thought you deserved to sleep in. I took the boys for a run and let you be."  
  
"Oh, thanks." He sat up and stretched again. "Have you called Conner?"  
  
"He'll be here for a late dinner tonight."  
  
"That fast?"  
  
Duncan shrugged. "I got a hold of him while he was in LA."  
  
"Well, I guess we'd better get ready." Richie pushed the covers off himself. "Lemme take a shower real quick then I can put the sheets in the wash."  
  
"After that we need to talk to Brandon," Duncan told him. "We have a lot of explaining to do."  
  
Richie sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah. That should be fun."  
  
He went into the bathroom and closed the door behind himself. He took a look in the mirror and studied his reflection. Something was missing. Scowling, he took a mental inventory. His hair was the same, he wasn't wearing his glasses...but that wasn't it, there were -obviously- no new cuts or bruises, there was nothing wrong. Shrugging, he opened the drawer to get his razor so he could shave. It wasn't there. Frowning, he began a search that ended in the back of his second drawer. He didn't find his razor but he did find a familiar white box.  
  
"Oops," he mumbled to himself opening the box. Inside was the necklace Duncan had given him almost sixteen years before and Conner had given it to Duncan four hundred years before that. He hooked the chain around his neck and looked back in the mirror. Something still looked odd, but he still couldn't figure out what it was.  
  
Finally he gave up and searched for his razor again, finding it on the counter next to the shaving gel. He shaved quickly, nicking himself a few times but ignoring it, and got in the shower. Twenty minutes later, he got out and went to find something to wear.  
  
Duncan came into the room while Richie was tying his hair back. "Brandon's ready," he said.  
  
"I have no idea what I'm doing," Richie mumbled to himself.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothin'. I'll be there in a minute."  
  
Richie found Brandon sitting on the couch flipping through the channels on the TV.  
  
"Hey, man," he greeted him.  
  
"Hey."  
  
"You mind if we talk for a minute?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
He sat down next to him on the couch. "Do you get what went on last night?"  
  
"Yeah. I mean, it was obvious from the start."  
  
Richie's throat went a little dry. "Really?"  
  
"Well, they had to leave sometime, didn't they?"  
  
"So... you're okay?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"No questions?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"None at all?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Okay... well, if you come up with some, just ask me or Mac, okay?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Cool." Richie nodded and took a deep breath. "Well, did Mac tell you about Conner?"  
  
"Who's that?"  
  
"You're teacher. He's on his way now."  
  
Brandon looked at the ugly pattern on the couch upholstery. "I'm not staying here?"  
  
"No. Brandon, that was the deal. I thought you knew that." He didn't answer. "Look, I ah... I'm not ready yet. The whole plan was for me to take care of you until I found you a teacher. Mac was my first choice. But he has Anthony. So we called Conner... who is way cool... and just between you and me," he leaned in closer. "He's cooler than Mac."  
  
Brandon cracked a smile. "Is he nice?"  
  
"You'll like him. But, you can always call me. I'll set him straight."  
  
"Oh, I'm so sure."  
  
"Hey, I got some pull. I can throw my weight around."  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"You know something?" Richie grabbed Brandon and put him in a head lock. "You need to watch your back, because you are too much like me for your own good."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"I'm going to go get Conner so I can fill him in," Duncan said stealing a carrot from the pile Richie had been chopping.  
  
"Shouldn't I do that?" Richie asked.  
  
"I think I should."  
  
"Mac, this is kinda my thing here."  
  
"Richie, I really want to be the first to talk to Conner. You'll have your turn."  
  
"You're pulling rank on me."  
  
"Yeah. I want to talk to Conner first."  
  
Richie sighed. "Okay, fine. I'll watch the boys here. Put them to work or something."  
  
"Thank you, Richie." They waited in silence for a minute. "Can I take your car?"  
  
He handed him his keys. "Take your pick."  
  
"Thanks, Rich. I really just want to catch up with Conner before we have to deal with the situation we have going on here. We'll be back in a couple hours."  
  
"Yeah, fine."  
  
Duncan sighed. "Richie..."  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"Don't do that."  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Act like this."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Yeah, fine," Duncan imitated Richie's clipped tone. "You're mad."  
  
Richie rolled his eyes. "Geeze."  
  
"You can't get mad at me every time I decide something you don't like."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"So now you're just going to agree with everything I say?"  
  
"Not everything." Duncan groaned. Richie sighed. "Okay, what do you want me to say?"  
  
"I don't want to tell you what to say," Duncan insisted.  
  
"Then don't get mad when I don't say what you want me to."  
  
"I'm not mad."  
  
"Then why are you getting on my case?"  
  
"I'm not getting on your case."  
  
"Yeah you are."  
  
"How?" Duncan asked.  
  
"The same way you always do."  
  
"How's that?"  
  
"You're getting all pouty." Richie waved the knife in the air, gesturing to noting in particular.  
  
"Pouty?"  
  
"Yeah. Pouty."  
  
"Exactly how am I being pouty?"  
  
"You get that tone of voice."  
  
"What tone of voice?"  
  
"And you repeat everything I say."  
  
"I do not repeat everything you say."  
  
"And you start to get frustrated and the next thing I know we'll be yelling for no reason."  
  
"That does not happen."  
  
"It happens every time, MacLeod."  
  
"Since when?"  
  
"Since always!" Richie snapped. "See? We're yelling now!"  
  
"Okay," Duncan said calmly. "You were right. But I would still like to be the to go get Conner."  
  
"Okay. I'll have dinner ready by the time you guys get back probably."  
  
Duncan started to leave then turned back around. "You're still mad, aren't you?"  
  
"Mac! God, man, just let it drop and go!"  
  
With a somewhat cocky grin and a wave, Duncan left to pick up Conner.  
  
AN: Sorry a bit of a fluff chap, but I'm stuck and figured something was better than nothing! 


	12. Welcome to the Clan

"Duncan, what are you doing here?" Conner asked as they found each other at the baggage claim.  
  
"Giving you a ride."  
  
"I was expecting the lad," he said into Duncan's shoulder as they shared a manly embrace.  
  
"I wanted to talk to you."  
  
"I see. Something bothering you?"  
  
Duncan spotted Conner's luggage coming round on the belt and grabbed it. "Nothing more than the usual."  
  
"Richie?"  
  
"How did you guess?" They started towards the parking lot.  
  
"So what is the problem this time?" Duncan didn't respond. "You two still fighting over nothing?"  
  
"Not nothing... just. I don't know how to react to him."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And I can never tell what he's thinking."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And I always seem to say the wrong thing."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And nothing."  
  
Conner smiled a knowing smile. "And you still feel protective of him though you both know he is a capable adult who doesn't need Duncan MacLeod hovering around him. You trying to protect him makes him feel like you think he's still a kid. So he's moody."  
  
Duncan put Conner's suitcase in the trunk of the jeep. "So..."  
  
"So what?"  
  
"So tell me what ever it is you're going to tell me."  
  
"What makes you think I have something to say?"  
  
"Because I know you and I know that smile."  
  
"What smile?" Conner asked innocently.  
  
"That one." Duncan started the car.  
  
"I was just thinking that we had this conversation twelve years ago while he was still in school."  
  
"Did we now?"  
  
"Well, same song, different verse. Duncan, you have to understand that Richie is a stubborn, moody, independent, yet very loyal and protective man...unfortunately so are you. You two are exactly alike, which is what pulls you together and what drives you two insane about each other."  
  
"I don't think that's the entire problem, Conner. Richie seems hell bent on showing off how well he made it without me."  
  
"That's your problem?" the elder immortal laughed.  
  
"What's so funny? I can't try to give him a single piece of advice without him assuming that I think he's still a kid."  
  
"So don't give him advice unless he asks for it."  
  
"It's not that easy; the kid made a pretty stupid mistake just the other day."  
  
"Duncan, let him make his mistakes; let him handle it on his own. And if he wants to show off for you, let him. He just wants to prove himself."  
  
"He doesn't have to."  
  
"You know that; I know that. Hell, he probably knows that. But that doesn't mean he doesn't want to show you what he's done."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why do toddlers have to show mommy and daddy every little picture they draw?"  
  
"Conner, Richie's not a toddler."  
  
"But he is someone who likes to be told he did a good job. My guess is all he wanted was for you to tell him that he did everything right."  
  
"Richie's not a teenager anymore," Duncan insisted. "He's too old for that."  
  
"Part of him is," Conner agreed. "But there is always some part of us that wants to be praised. Even you."  
  
"I do not!"  
  
"Then why did I get constant updates on how Richie's training was going when he first became one of us?"  
  
"I thought you would be interested."  
  
"Why did you invite me down to help you set up the antique store in Washington? Or to sit in on one of your classes at the university?" Duncan didn't answer. "Because you wanted to show me how well you were doing."  
  
"I don't think that was the case."  
  
"Maybe not, but I've had similar experiences with you."  
  
They drove in silence for a few miles. "You really think he just wants my approval?" Duncan asked.  
  
"Not just your approval, but I'm sure it's on the list."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie and the boys were waiting on the porch when Duncan and Conner pulled up in the Jeep.  
  
"Conner!" Anthony called and waived.  
  
"Hey!" Richie greeted standing up and wiping off the back of his jean shorts. Brandon stood as well, but hung in the back of the small pack of immortals.  
  
Conner climbed out of the car and went to greet the young immortals, leaving Duncan to take care of his bags.  
  
"How are you doing, Anthony?" he asked jabbing him playfully in the jaw.  
  
"I'm good."  
  
"Richie," he looked him up and down. "You've been spending too much time with Duncan."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Richie asked even as he grinned.  
  
"You need a hair cut, lad."  
  
"I like it."  
  
"It looks good on you."  
  
"Wait until you see what he did to himself," Duncan warned coming out of the house.  
  
"What did he do?" Conner asked.  
  
"Show him."  
  
"What?" Richie asked. Duncan reached out and turned Richie around so his back was facing Conner. "Oh, that."  
  
"Look what he did." Duncan lifted up the back of Richie's shirt so his tattoo was showing.  
  
"I ought to take the flat of my sword to your backside for this!" Conner scolded.  
  
"Why?" Richie squirmed out of Duncan's grip and pulled down his shirt.  
  
"Didn't Duncan and I forbid you to do such things?"  
  
Richie smirked. "Since when did I listen to you two anyway?"  
  
"You'll learn to, lad."  
  
Richie just laughed. "Sure I will."  
  
Conner smiled at him, then caught Brandon's eye. "And you are?"  
  
"Uh...Brandon...O'Neal," the teen stuttered.  
  
"You're the reason for all this, then?"  
  
"I guess."  
  
"Brandon," Richie stepped in, putting an arm around his shoulders. "This is Conner MacLoed. I told you about him this morning." Brandon nodded. "He's going to be your teacher. You'll like him, trust me. And he's gonna like you."  
  
"It's nice to meet you, Brandon." Conner extended his hand and Brandon took it. "I think we'll get along just fine."  
  
"Well, why don't we all get acquainted over dinner," Richie suggested. "Which is not here, because I burned it...horribly."  
  
"Smooth, Rich," Duncan chided.  
  
"But, I made us dinner reservations at Big Bowl and if we leave now we should be right on time. So, everyone in the car."  
  
They all piled into the station wagon and Richie drove across the island to the restaurant.  
  
"This place is awesome," he told everyone as he pulled into a parking space. "The stir fry bar is the best."  
  
"How many?" the hostess asked as they filed in.  
  
"We have a reservation," Richie said.  
  
"Name?"  
  
"Rick Noel."  
  
The hostess checked the list. "Ah, your table should be ready in just a minute."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Rick Noel?" Duncan asked when Richie turned to relay the news, not having noticed him standing behind him.  
  
"Yeah...that's my name here."  
  
Duncan couldn't help but smile. "It's a good name."  
  
Richie smiled back. "Thanks."  
  
"I think Tessa would be proud to hear you took her name as your first new identity."  
  
"Thanks, Mac. That actually means a lot to me to hear you say that."  
  
Duncan gave him a one armed hug as they went over to join the group to wait for their table. Conner caught his eye and gave him a kind, but smug told- you-so look.  
  
Less than a minute later, the hostess showed them to their table. Conner caught up with Richie and put his arm around his shoulders.  
  
"Relax," he told him.  
  
"What?" Richie gave him a confused look.  
  
"He's noticed. Stop trying so hard. Just be yourself." Conner hooked a finger under the chain of Richie's necklace. "Wear it proud, lad."  
  
"You are so weird sometimes," Richie laughed.  
  
"Just listen to me; its sound advice."  
  
"If only I knew what you were talking about."  
  
They were seated at a big round table in a secluded corner of the restaurant.  
  
"What's a stir fry bar?" Anthony asked.  
  
"Here, I'll show you." Richie got up and led the teen to the table right in front of the kitchen with large bowls of vegetables on it.  
  
"You tell the waiter what meat and sauce you want, they give you a bowl and you put however much of what you want in it, put it on the lazy susan with your ticket and they cook it for you."  
  
While they were gone, Conner turned to Brandon. "How old are you, Brandon?"  
  
"Um...18."  
  
"Young age to become one of us."  
  
"Anthony and Richie were the same age," he defended.  
  
"And they were young." Brandon shifted his gaze to his menu.  
  
"Lad, I'm not scolding you," Conner said leaning in so their conversation was private. "If you ask me, the younger ones are more fun then the old sticks in the mud." He jerked a thumb toward Duncan. "We'll have to work hard, but word on the street is you're not half bad." Brandon looked up at him. "I have something for you when we get back to the house."  
  
Brandon quirked a grin. "What is it?"  
  
Conner leaned back in his chair with a wicked smile. "A surprise."  
  
Duncan chuckled. "I think we found a match."  
  
Richie and Anthony came back in time for the waiter to come by for drink and appetizer orders. They got a sampler platter and order of dumplings to share.  
  
"So, Conner," Richie started when the silence got too awkward. "Brandon is a black belt in karate."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"He taught classes at his old dojo."  
  
"That will come in handy. We may fight with swords, but unarmed battle is very important. If you can defend yourself without a weapon, you will do better with one," he told the teen.  
  
The waiter came back with the appetizers and took their orders. A minute later, he came back with five bowls. The two teens went first with orders to get a good amount of vegetables. When the boys got back, Conner decided Richie and Duncan should go together. They got up and walked to the vegetable bar. Duncan hung back for a just a second, but long enough for Richie to notice.  
  
"You never done this before?" Richie asked.  
  
"I think I can figure it out."  
  
"I dunno, Mac, it's a bit complicated."  
  
"I think I'll manage." He reached for the tongs in the bean sprouts and managed to knock over the bowl of baby corn in the process. Luckily it just tipped and only a few of the cobs fell out. No one noticed, until Richie burst out laughing.  
  
"Smooth, Mac!"  
  
"Would you shut up," Duncan hissed, now completely flustered and missing his bowl when he tried to continue on as normal.  
  
Richie tried to smother his laughter, but wasn't successful. "I'm sorry," he gasped. "I don't know why I think it's so funny."  
  
"Rick?" a man asked coming up behind Richie.  
  
Richie only laughed harder. "Hi."  
  
"Have you been eating too much sugar again?" the man asked.  
  
"No," Richie said, finally calming down. "Uh, Mac...this is my Rabbi, Joel Rosenberg. This is Duncan MacLeod."  
  
"A word of advice," Rabbi Rosenberg told Duncan as he shook his hand. "Keep this one away from anything with sugar in it, he gets a little crazy."  
  
Duncan smiled. "I know, I practically raised him."  
  
Rabbi Rosenberg frowned. "Are you his uncle?"  
  
"No," Richie cut in. "Just close family. I spent my summers with him a lot."  
  
"Oh, I see. I was about to say, you don't look much like Richie Ryan. I assume I'll see you at service this week?" he asked Richie.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"I should go join my family. It was nice to meet you." He walked away.  
  
"You are your own uncle?" Duncan asked.  
  
Richie shrugged. "Someone noticed, I had to think of something."  
  
"That can get a little complicated, Rich."  
  
"Didn't you claim to be your own grandson once?"  
  
"But my 'grandfather' was dead. You're still alive."  
  
"No one mentions it anymore, Mac, it's fine."  
  
"Just be careful with things like that."  
  
"I will."  
  
They went back to the table. Dinner was uneventful after Richie's outburst though he did get a second lecture about trying to live two identities at once from Conner as well. Which then led to lecturing the boys about cover- up ideas that sound appealing at the time, but are actually bad ideas. After that, they spent time getting Conner and Brandon acquainted. Duncan and Richie could tell that they had come up with a good match. Brandon was disciplined enough to be a model student, but free spirited enough to give Conner a challenge. Conner was understanding enough to know when to give Brandon his space, but demanding enough to keep him in line and out of danger.  
  
On the way home, everyone shared training stories, most of which featured Duncan because both Richie and Anthony demanded to hear them.  
  
"Well, I believe we have something rather important to do right now," Conner said as Richie pulled the station wagon into the drive way.  
  
"I suppose we do," Duncan agreed.  
  
"I think we should leave him in suspense until morning," Richie piped up.  
  
"I have presents for everybody," Conner said.  
  
"Then we should do it now," Richie decided.  
  
"Then we will."  
  
They all filed into the living room and took a seat where they could, Duncan in the arm chair, the boys on the couch, Richie on the arm rest with his shoes up on the coffee table and Conner on the love seat with a small pile of gifts at his feet.  
  
"Duncan." Conner handed him a small package.  
  
"Book," Richie and Anthony announced in unison.  
  
"Be quiet," Duncan scolded with a smile, opening the package. "Conner, where did you find this?" It was a book of scores by his favorite composer Ian MacDuff, an old Scottish composer from the seventeenth century.  
  
"Luck. Anthony?"  
  
Anthony got a set of throwing stars and knifes. "I love it!"  
  
"Thanks, Conner," Duncan groused.  
  
"And for Richie. Something every immortal needs as he gets older." He handed Richie an envelope.  
  
With an odd expression, Richie opened it and looked inside. "I get a piece of paper?"  
  
"Read it."  
  
Richie took the paper out and unfolded it. His jaw dropped as he read the page. "You're giving me an island?"  
  
"A retreat," Conner told him. "The land is yours as is the cottage. It's on holy ground."  
  
A faint smile played across Richie's lips. "Just like Mac's."  
  
"Only in the tropics. A bit harder to get to."  
  
"Thanks, Conner."  
  
"And now for the reason we're all here." Conner stood up and motioned for Brandon to do the same. He opened a long oak box and took out a Spanish Calvary sword. "Take this." He handed it, hilt first, over to the young immortal, but held onto it as he made his speech. "Learn with it, live with it, make it part of you. Sometimes it will be your only friend. Serve it well and it will serve you well. Our clan has grown over the years. And you are now a part of it. MacLeods always serve as allies. Sitting in this room are your allies. You can always turn to them in a time of need and they to you. Learn, grow and make us proud." He released the sword. "Welcome to the clan MacLeod." 


	13. The MacLeods

AN: Okay, this is it guys. Hope you enjoyed. No bad guys, no real immortal issues, just resolving the ending of University Love. Please review. Thumbs up or thumbs down, I'd love to hear what you all think!  
  
Duncan went into the room he was sharing with Richie and found the younger man already in bed.  
  
"You and Connor have a good chat?" Richie asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Does Anthony have to give back his present?"  
  
"He can keep them. I just gave Connor a piece of my mind."  
  
Richie grinned and rolled his eyes. "You're horrible. He's just spoiling him a bit."  
  
"You would defend him." He took a swing at Richie's head.  
  
"Hey!" Richie blocked the blow. "Just doing what I'm supposed to."  
  
"Sure you are," Duncan teased. "You're just on his side because he came with presents."  
  
"Don't bite the hand that feeds you, Mac."  
  
Duncan sat down on the twin bed across from Richie. "I just can't wait to see how he tops this for your centennial."  
  
Richie laughed. "If I make it that long."  
  
"You will; you're good."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Connor also gave me some advice," he said, his tone turning serious.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I owe you..."  
  
"Owe me what?"  
  
"An apology."  
  
"For what?" Richie asked, sitting up and leaning against his headboard.  
  
"I felt that you still had a lot to learn when you left. That's why I was so worried about you. I didn't think you were ready. Not knowing where you were just made it worse. I should have been happy when you came back; I shouldn't have snubbed you at the airport after Joe's funeral. I'm sorry."  
  
"Mac..."  
  
"I'm not done, yet."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"I also have to accept that you've grown up. You're nearly forty years old now and even though I don't want you to be, you are an adult. I still want to take care of you and protect you. But I have to step back and let you make your own decisions. Even if I don't agree with you. That's your prerogative. I'm sorry I didn't see that before and I promise to work on it."  
  
"Thanks, Mac."  
  
"And I also want to tell you how proud I am of you. You really made things work. You've learned a lot more than I thought you had. You've done great things with your life. I should have known from the start you'd be fine."  
  
Richie smiled awkwardly. "As long as we're bearing our souls and making apologies... I owe you one or thirty, too."  
  
"Rich..."  
  
Richie put up his hand. "No, hear me out. I should have been straight with you from the start. I'm sorry I didn't trust you enough to just tell you the truth. I should have had faith that you would do what was right and back off. Instead, I ran away to prove something I didn't have to prove in the first place. I worried you for no reason. I deliberately kept you in the dark. Family's not supposed to do that, Mac. And I'm sorry."  
  
Duncan smiled. "Thank you."  
  
"You really mean a lot to me, Mac. I shouldn't have ever put you in the position I did. You're not the bad guy. You were supposed to be the one guy I could always turn to. I don't know why I pushed you away like that. And I guess I didn't call you sooner, 'cause I didn't know if you wanted me to."  
  
"Richie. Don't ever think that."  
  
"I know, Mac. I should know you better than that."  
  
"Don't worry about it. We're even."  
  
"Well...there is one more thing I need to say."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I'm sorry...that I don't think of us like you do, or did. But I can't help the way I feel. I was too old for a father when I met you. I needed a friend... you were...are... the best friend I ever had. You were also the coolest big brother I ever had. And I really hope that's good enough, 'cause it's all I got."  
  
Duncan reached across and put his hand on Richie's knee. "Richie, whatever you're willing to do, say, or give... is always more than enough. Except..."  
  
"Except for what?"  
  
"Ten years between phone calls. That is unacceptable, young man." He pulled Richie into a head lock and ground his fist into the immortal's scalp. "Do you hear me?" Richie laughed and tried, unsuccessfully to break Duncan's grip. "I said, do you hear me?"  
  
"Yes!" Richie choked out.  
  
Duncan let him go. "Good."  
  
On an odd, sudden impulse, he took hold of the chain around Richie's neck and held onto the flat, round, engraved stone hanging there. Richie's hand gently closed around his.  
  
"I didn't want to loose it. At work, if you drop something, chances are you'll never see it again. I wasn't going to risk it. I should have thought to put it on before you got here."  
  
"Rich, the point of this wasn't to give you something to wear. It was the feeling that I was more worried about."  
  
"Mac, Connor gave you this."  
  
"I know he did. I'm not asking you to loose it. But just remember that the meaning is more important than the object."  
  
"Don't tell me I'm gonna start talking like a fortune cookie when I get as old as you," Richie grinned.  
  
"Just one of the many things you have to look forward to."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Three days later, the five immortals stood at baggage check in at the airport. Connor, Brandon, Duncan and Anthony were all flying to the big island together then Duncan and Anthony were going back to Wales while Connor took Brandon back to LA with him.  
  
"Are you sure you can't come with?" Duncan asked Richie. "At least to the next island?"  
  
"I gotta get the house ready before I have to be back here to pick up my roommates. I don't have time."  
  
"Come see us, then. Next break you have, I expect to see you on my doorstep."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
They started to shake hands, but Richie pulled Duncan in for a hug. Duncan slapped him on the back a few times before they let go.  
  
"Will you come to my graduation next spring?" Richie asked, still holding Duncan's hand.  
  
"Just tell me when and I'm here."  
  
"You," Richie looked at Anthony. "Give 'em hell for me."  
  
"I will."  
  
They shook hands.  
  
"Thanks, Connor."  
  
"Any time, lad. And don't you go ten years before you call me."  
  
"I didn't see any messages from you, you know."  
  
Connor smiled. "Fair enough." They clasped forearms and gave each other a hug. "And I loved the picture," he whispered in Richie's ear.  
  
Richie smiled as he pulled back. "Thought you might. Just don't tell Mac about it 'til you're in the air?"  
  
"Deal."  
  
Richie turned to Brandon who was standing uncomfortably at Connor's side.  
  
"You ready?" he asked him.  
  
"I think so."  
  
"It's not gonna be bad at all. And when Connor says you can, come see me. Maybe we can even convince Mac to send Anthony, too. I can show you guys a real good time."  
  
"Okay," Brandon nodded stiffly.  
  
"You, need to lighten up," Richie told him giving him a noogie. "You're gonna be just fine. And if you think Connor does anything wrong, you call me. I'll straighten him up."  
  
"Thanks, Richie."  
  
"Anytime, kiddo."  
  
Brandon sighed and put out his hand. "I guess this is good-"  
  
"Ah ah!" Richie interrupted. "There's one thing you really need to learn." He cast a quick glance at Duncan. "MacLeods never say goodbye." 


End file.
